I don't have a choice (I still choose you)
by icings
Summary: You only know what I want you to / I know everything you don't want me to. A Neverland story, inspired by The Civil Wars' "Poison & Wine".
1. Chapter 1

_You only know what I want you to. _

_I know everything you don't want me to. _

* * *

He's alive.

Barely.

But as long as his heart is still beating, he figures it counts.

He's hanging on. It has to count.

He's so weak. Damn near useless, damn near collapsing. Hook's saved his ass more times than he cares to acknowledge, including when one of his legs had given out from under him just as they were working their way through a narrow cliff-side pass. The pirate had grabbed him, saving him, only just in time.

That was the narrowest escape, but far from the only one. By his count, he owes the pirate his life times three.

Which is really annoying, considering he's going to die soon anyway.

"Just leave me!" he snaps, when he collapses to the jungle floor again, and the pirate hoists him back up.

"No," Hook hisses, struggling to prop him up on his own shoulder, bearing all of his weight for him. "No, I'm not going to leave you to die. You're not going to leave me to tell them. You're not going to make me do that to her."

He feels the scowl set. "I told you to stay away from Emma."

The pirate scoffs right back. "Yes, because the prince feebly waving his sword at me, that was quite the deterrent. As you so insistently keep telling me, you'll be dead. What do I care of your opinion?"

The truth of it eats at him, twisting his stomach.

"Snow will..."

"Snow will be in no state to give a damn what I do. Do you think she's just going to pick herself up from your dead body and go on with her day? This will break her, and you're letting it."

"Don't talk to me about my wife!"

"Someone has to, mate."

"I'm doing what I think is right. You don't get to judge."

"_You _don't get to put this all on me," Hook huffed with the strain of essentially carrying him. "I'm getting you back to the camp. I'm not going back without you. Once we're back, that's your call, mate. You either tell your wife and daughter the truth, or you don't, and just wait until you drop dead in front of them. I don't care, as long as I'm not part of doing that to them."

"Why do you care so much?!"

"Even a pirate can love, mate. I lost someone I loved, once. I wouldn't wish the pain of it on anyone. Losing you? It'll mess Emma up, and I don't know if she'll ever be able to put herself all the way back together. And Snow? She loves you. Really, really loves you. This will destroy her, and you know that better than I do."

He feels himself sag, even as Hook attempts valiantly to keep him upright.

"What the point of making them feel that pain earlier than they have to?" he asks, genuinely wanting Hook's opinion. "Isn't it easier for them if I just die, rather than them having to know it's coming, having to wait for it?"

Hook shrugs, jostling him slightly. "That's your call, not mine. You're going to handle this as you see fit. Just don't leave me to be the one to tell them you've died. I can't do it. Help me get you back to camp."

With a sigh, he nods. He owes Hook this. He's not going to live long enough to save Hook thrice. Helping the pirate get him back to camp, removing the burden of his own lie of omission from Hook's shoulders, it's the best he can do.

"Mate, you're gonna have to wrap your arm around my shoulders, come on..."

He tries, but fails in a feeble attempt.

"You're that weak?" Hook asks, paling slightly, before recoiling when he'd gone to do it for him.

"What is it?" he snaps.

"Your shoulder. It's separated. That's why you can barely move it. It must have popped when I grabbed you to keep you from falling."

He turns his head slightly to look at it, feeling wary.

"You can't feel it?!" Hook demands. "That was two hours ago. How much pain are you actually in from the poison that you can't feel a separated shoulder?"

"I feel numb," he replies softly. "I can't feel any of it anymore. I did, but I don't anymore."

Hook swallows. "We need to get you back. Let's go, mate. Come on. I'll carry you if I have to."

* * *

They make it back.

She doesn't relax.

Charming is struggling obviously, hobbling in on what she can tell is everything he's got left.

She suspects Hook had been helping him more than Charming had been willing to show when he got back within her range of vision. The pirate walks into their campsite hovering just a few measured steps behind her husband, as if expecting Charming to collapse at any moment.

No, she doesn't relax. She doesn't calm. She doesn't settle down.

"Hey!" Emma chirps, as positive as she's been since this whole mess started. "How'd it go?"

Hook manages a half smile for her, though the strain doesn't leave his eyes. "Mission accomplished, love."

Their conversation fades to the background for her, as she focuses on her husband, making his way over to their bed.

"Hey," he murmurs.

She shudders at how winded he sounds, how weak he looks now that he's close.

"You look exhausted," she says softly.

"You really do," Emma comments, coming over to join them. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he replies, with a smile that she knows on sight is strained. "Messed up my shoulder a little bit, is all."

"How'd you manage that?"

"Nearly went over a cliff," Hook interjects, a typical triumphant smirk playing at his lips but none of his usual energetic light in his eyes. "I saved him," he brags.

Charming huffs. "And wrenched my shoulder out in the process."

Hook shrugs. "You win some, you lose some."

"Nice," her husband mutters, but there's no real heat behind it.

"You sure that's all it is?" she asks, softly.

Charming smiles. "I'm fine."

The frustration writ large on Hook's face says otherwise, and she feels her heart sink.

* * *

Through the fog in his head, he knows Snow's not alright.

She is angry, lashing out in a way he's scarcely seen of her. Hissing at Regina, snapping at Hook, avoiding Emma.

And remaining so gentle with him that he damn near wants to weep, if only...

He wants to comfort her, he wants to fix things, he wants to make it better for her, but he cannot find the strength or energy to so much as open his eyes, and it's infuriating. He's never felt so useless in his entire life, and he wants to rage at it, rage the way Snow is now, but he just cannot do it.

He can't do anything.

He lies on the bed he made for himself and Snow, and feigns sleep unintentionally, for though he _is_ conscious of what is going on around him, he cannot make himself do anything about it. The poison has eaten up too much of him now, and he has already given everything he had left.

He knows he's dying.

And despite himself, he wonders if she knows too.

He lies there, listening to his wife lash out, and thinks about how sorry he is.

_I'm sorry Snow. I love you. Please, please, please, when it's over, remember that. Remember how I loved you. _

* * *

They have some semblance of a plan now, thanks mostly to Hook. She's grateful, she thinks. Somewhere inside, she's grateful. Hook has done more to help them save Henry than anyone.

They've sent a message for Tink with a bird that Snow was able to garner would be loyal to them. The bright, vibrant - parrot like but not - creature was not a fan of Pan, and that was good enough for them.

All that is left now is to wait for the fallen-from-grace fairy to re-join them. Then they can finally, _finally_ do something.

And she is _so_ angry.

She keeps herself away from Emma as much as she can, recognizing even through the black cloud of rage that she doesn't ever want to take what she's feeling out on her - _their _- daughter. Hook is fair game, really, but in the back of her mind she does know that none of this is his fault. She snaps at him, in no mood for his games, but it goes no further than that. Hook seems to understand that she needs to be left alone.

There is an apology, a sorrow in his eyes that she really doesn't want to think about.

Regina, though. Everything, _everything_ comes back to Regina.

"You're _certain_ the bird can be trusted?" her stepmother demands.

She closes her eyes, better to not see the red haze that has clouded her vision.

"I told you I was," she hisses in reply. "What more do you want me to say?"

"I guess there's nothing you can say," Regina says, haughtily. "We both know secrets have never been your strong suit."

Something inside her snaps, and she's slapping the hateful older woman across the face before she can even think about doing it.

"Mare!" Emma exclaims, though she barely hears it, as it seems to come from very far away.

As if she'd yelled it from somewhere else, yelled it from a land where everything would have been different, yelled it from there home where her daughter could have grown up, where she would have been 'Mama', then 'Mommy', then 'Mom', but never Mare, never ever Mary Margaret, and none of this is fair, and it all comes back to Regina.

"I was twelve years old!" she shrieks, control gone. "I was a _child_, God damn it, God damn you. Would you have expected Henry to keep a secret like that, if he had thought keeping it would harm you? I was a child, not a demon! I was a child, and your mother told me that she would fix everything if I just told her the truth. I wasn't going to tell her, I wasn't, but your mother was a psychotic, manipulative, evil _bitch_, and she made me believe that you were going to lose her forever if I kept your secret. I was a CHILD, and I'd just lost my mother, and I _loved_ you, and I didn't want you to go through what I did! So I told, and it has been one of the great regrets of my life, that I fell for it, that I tried to protect you and ended up ruining everything, that I was such a naive _little girl._ There, are you satisfied? You killed my _father_. You've cast more curses upon me than I care to count, you have deprived me of a life spent with my husband and my daughter, you made it so that I wouldn't be there to watch her grow up, and I will never be able to repair the damage from that, but damn it, I was a child who failed to keep a secret, so clearly I deserve whatever hell you can rain upon me! Right, Regina? The demon-little girl with the dastardly, the diabolical, the evil plan of making sure you didn't lose your mother like I did, there's no suffering that's enough for her!"

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recognizes that Hook is openly staring at her, that Emma is in tears, and that Regina looks stricken in a way she hadn't believed her capable of in decades, but it doesn't break through. The dam has broken.

"You can go to hell," she whispers, finally. "This is all your fault. Everything, _everything_ comes back to you, the woman whose heart was so black she couldn't understand a mistake made by a little girl. I was a child. I was a child, I was a child, I was..."

"_Snow,_" her husband cries out, desperate.

Nothing was breaking through to her.

That did.

* * *

He's dying and she's breaking and there's something symbolic in that, and he hates it.

She's suffering. She has her entire life, suffering more pain and hurt and loss than one human being should have ever been forced to face, and it's all coming out of her now, finally overcoming her in this moment, and he doesn't understand why it has to be now, now when he can't fix it, unless...

Unless it's happening now, _because_ he can't fix it.

He concentrates, harder than he has on anything in his life, on forcing his eyes open, on focusing them once he does, immediately, on his wife.

He doesn't see Hook, doesn't see Regina. For once, doesn't even see Emma. All he can see is Snow, arms wrapped around herself as if trying to hold herself together when dozens of pieces of herself are falling off at once, down to the cold hard ground.

It's too much to ask of himself, but he can never ask enough of himself when it comes to her, and so he forces it out, the cry through his lips, and he calls for her.

"_Snow_!"

His bellow is guttural, ripped from him in agony. He knows it doesn't sound like him, he knows he sounds awful, he knows it sounds like he's dying.

And he knows he can't hide this from her anymore, for she is at his side in seconds, as if she'd been waiting for him to cry out for her, and she holds his hand in hers, clutches at it, brings it to her lips to kiss.

His body wants to close its eyes, but he forces them to stay open, forces himself to stay focused on her beautiful, broken face.

"Hey," she murmurs. "I'm right here. Charming, I'm right here."

He tries to say something, finds that there are no words to say.

Something in her eyes shatters, but her grip on his hand stays strong.

"Are you finally ready to tell me?" she asks.

* * *

"_Are you finally ready to tell me?" she asks. _

_Something in his stomach seizes. _

_She'd known all along. Of course she had. The prince was foolish to have ever tried otherwise. _

_Oh he'd loved Milah, he really had, and he believes in his heart that she'd really loved him too, but it was nothing like this. Nothing like Snow White and her Prince Charming, the love that legends are made of; the love story that had been told throughout the realms. _

_He knew their story, of course he did. Everyone did. _

_And the Evil Queen, stricken though she is looking right now, has no right to be involved in this part of it. _

_He grabs her. _

_She flails out against him immediately, but he's got her hands gripped in such a way that she can't open her palms up to release magic against him, and that's enough. _

"_We're going," he hisses. "This doesn't involve us, this is about those three, and we are going to leave them to it." _

_She fights him as he drags her out of their campsite, hissing at him, threatening him. He tries to ignore it, what she says and how she says it, but there is no denying it, the woman falling apart before him. _

"_No!" the Evil Queen screams. "No, no, no, no, no!" _

_Whatever was seizing in his stomach before gets worse. _

_She is breaking down, sobbing openly, and if he didn't know any better, he'd think they were of remorse. _

"_You take me back!" she screams at him. "Oh God, she was a _child_. Oh God, oh God, what have I done?" _

_She struggles against him, and he doesn't let go, and he wonders how many more people this land will break. _

* * *

She wants to weep at how much the effort of merely staying conscious is costing him.

He's dying before her eyes, and there is no curse coming to accidentally save him this time.

The anger is gone, leaving in its place a terrible sorrow, the likes of which she'd never felt before, even after everything.

She preferred the anger.

"What is going on?" Emma asks shakily from somewhere behind them.

_Em. _Emma cannot see this, she knows. She cannot handle it. She's barely begun to accept Charming as her father, and he'll be gone before they can get past that.

Her daughter has no idea what she's about to lose. And she needs to know. She'll need to be told, need to be prepared, but not yet. After.

This is something she needs to do alone with her husband.

"Em," she says softly, turning to her daughter. "Can you give us a minute alone?"

The stubbornness that she and Charming both combined to pass on to their daughter flashes in Emma's eyes.

"No," Emma snaps. "No, this is... it's us three... you're my... okay, someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on."

"And we will," she promises. "Soon. I just need to talk to your father alone for a little while first. Can you please let me have that?"

Emma sighs, but nods. "I'll go after Hook and Regina."

She waits until she's sure their daughter is gone before speaking again.

"No more lying," she tells Charming, whose stare has not left her face since he opened his eyes back up.

He's memorizing her face all over again, one last time, she knows, and she only barely chokes back the sob.

"You know?" he asks, blearily confused.

She feels the tears working their way down her face, ignores them. Wiping them away is not worth letting go of Charming's hands.

"How could I not?" she asks softly. "You are my heart, Charming. I know when it is hurting."

He closes his eyes.

"No," she tells him. "It's not time to sleep yet, Charming."

He blinks his eyes open again slowly, but manages to focus back on her. "It hurts, Snow."

"Your wound?"

He looks at her in a way that tells her he'd be shaking his head if he had the strength for it. "No," he whispers. "Saying goodbye to you."

She doesn't choke the sob back this time.

"I thought I would be making it easier for both of us, if I didn't tell you."

She kisses his hand again.

"There's no making this easier, my sweet Charming. I love you so much that you would try, but there's no way to fix this."

She watches the tear slide down his face.

"I'm so sorry, Snow."

She shakes her head. "There's no apologizing. You were trying to protect me. End of story."

He swallows, and it worries her how difficult it is for him to do so. Putting a water bottle to his lips, she helps him to drink, sees the gratitude in his eyes.

"You did get hit by that arrow," she says, suddenly needing him to say it, needing confirmation.

"Yes," he whispers. "Barely a nick, but it got me."

"And the dreamshade is killing you."

"It won't stop spreading. I don't have... I don't have much time left."

"Let me see it," she demands.

"No..."

"Charming, I won't be able to accept it. I can't... I can't accept it. You need to let me see for myself what's killing you!"

He sighs. It's choked, staggered, as if there's nothing left in him even for breathing.

"If it's truly... truly what you need. But my darling... Snow... I don't want it for you. I don't want to leave you with that."

"Okay," she whispers. "Okay."

"I love you," he tells her. "You need to know how much I love you."

"I know. I promise you, I know. I love you."

For a moment, just a moment, they are quiet together.

So it is all the more startling when their daughter bursts in through the trees.

Emma stares at them, and she stares back at her.

After everything they've been through, she's never seen their daughter look so young, and she looks even younger still when she finally speaks.

"Daddy?"

* * *

"_You need to pull yourself together," he hisses. "You cannot fall apart right now. This is still about the boy. And if we're going to stand a chance in hell now, it's going to come down to you and me. You can weep about all your bitter regrets some other time, Regina!" _

"_I can't, I can't, I have to fix..." _

"_There is no fixing this!" he roars."What's done is done. It's led us all here, to this moment, and you have to live with that. You have to live with what you've done to that family in there, and you need to help me save your son, because that's the only thing that's going to make any of this better! Snow and Emma, they're not going to be alright, they're not going to be of any use, so if you..." _

"_What are you _talking about_?" Regina demands, fury breaking through her sobs. _

"_He got hit!" _

"_What?" she hisses. _

"_Their prince Charming in there, he got hit in the attack from the Lost Boys. The Dreamshade is working its way through his body, there's next to nothing left to him. He's dying back there, and none of us can do anything about it. All you and I can do, is as he would have wished, and save your son!" _

_He doesn't have the chance to focus on how Regina has paled, the terror in her eyes. _

_His attention is captured by a woman he cares far more about, spinning at the sound of her terrified gasp. _

"_Emma," he breathes. _

_She looks like a child, wide-eyed and horror-struck. _

_Little Lost Girl. _

"_Emma, love..." _

"_Please," she cuts him off. "Please tell me it's a lie. Please tell me you made it up to mess with her head. Please, tell me that you didn't just say that my father is dying?" _

_He hadn't known, after Milah, that he was capable of feeling his heart break again. _

_He is. _

"_Emma," he murmurs, and it's all he can say, and he hears his voice crack even just with that, and he knows that despite everything he'd told the prince, he'd just broken her. _

_She shakes her head slowly, her wide eyes looking too huge in her suddenly sickly pale face. _

"_No," she says. "No!" _

"_Emma!" he yells, but he's too late to make a grab for her before she's taking off running. _

_In the absence of a second hand to bury his head into, he kicks at the rocks and rubble at his feet. "Damn it!" he cries into the jungle, before spinning to the other woman he'd all but forgotten about. _

"_Regina," he tries. _

_He doesn't think she hears him. _

"_This is not happening," she says, more to herself than him. "This is not..." _

"_It is," he hisses, "and you need to..." _

"_She can't handle it!" she shrieks. _

_He recoils, taken aback. "I know she can't, but..." _

"_She... she's twelve years old!" _

"_What?" he asks flatly. He's not prepared for this, he wasn't prepared for any of this, to have so many lives balanced in his hand and a hook. Charming might as well be gone, his wife and daughter will be destroyed for it, his grandson still needs saving, and the only other person he has to help him is losing it before him. _

"_She never stopped being twelve years old, I just could never see that, and she loves him, and after everything, everything I've done, she cannot lose him now!" _

_He doesn't have a chance to put together a response to that before she's taking off running for their camp too. _

"_Gods," he rasps. He hasn't prayed since he was barely out of his teens, but if now isn't the time to start up again... _

"_Gods help us." _

* * *

Doing this with Snow was agony.

Doing it with Emma now is impossible.

He'd waited his whole damn life to hear his child call him 'Daddy'.

He'd thought 'Dad' back in Storybrooke was the best he was ever going to get, and he'd made his peace with that. 'Dad' was perfect, 'Dad' was wonderful.

And now, at the last possible moment, he finds himself 'Daddy'.

Always when he's about to die, he thinks blankly. That's not fair.

A man should get to feel only joy when his child calls for him in such a way. So why does he have to feel this kind of bittersweet sorrow twice?

"Em," he tries.

"You're... you're... you're..."

She can't say it, he realizes.

He's not going to make her.

"Yeah," he says, closing his eyes so he doesn't have to see the look on her face. "I am."

She makes a strange noise he's never heard of her before, half sob and half broken laugh, and he forces his eyes back open again.

"There has to... there has to be a way we can fix this. You... you guys have magic. Happily ever after, right? There's always a fix. What's the... what's the fix?"

"There isn't one, Em. Pixie dust was probably the only hope, and..."

Emma straightens up, wiping away tears. "That's it then! Where's Tink, she should be here by now."

"She didn't have any, Emma."

She rubs at her face roughly, rakes her hands through her hair. "Something else, then. Some other magic. I have some, you can... you can have all of it. Just tell me what to do. We'll make Regina... we'll make her help, she owes us that."

"There's nothing we can do, Em," he says, fighting hard to keep his voice steady. "I don't have time left. Magic can't fix this."

She sobs, and he can't fix that either.

"What... there has to be something I can do. What can I do?"

He swallows.

"If you come over here and sit with your Mom and I, that would mean the world to me."

He knows it's not fair of him, to ask his wife and his daughter to sit with him as he dies. It's exactly what he'd wanted to avoid the whole time.

But now, it's all he wants, and he feels his heart break further when Emma nods vigorously, rushing over to them, folding herself up to sit cross-legged next to Snow.

The tears start again when Emma leans her head on Snow's shoulder.

"Mom and I will be right here," she promises, sniffling. "The whole time. We're not going anywhere."

"Thank you," he whispers. "I love you so much, honey."

"I love you too, Daddy. I know I haven't said it. I know you deserved it earlier. But I love you too."

Snow hasn't said anything since Emma arrived, and he can see on her face how badly she's falling apart, but she manages to wrap her free arm around their daughter's shoulders.

They're all there, together, and as far as ways to die go, it's not so bad. He can even feel himself relaxing, until they're disturbed once more.

"You can't just give up!" Regina demands, violently, and he's startled by it, as is his family. Snow throws her body over his, protecting him, and Emma is on her feet immediately, the shimmery purpleness of magic bursting out of her, a protective spell.

"You don't touch him!" Snow shrieks.

"Leave us the hell alone!" Emma adds even as she attempts to choke back tears. "This has nothing to do with you. You've ruined enough!"

"I know I have," Regina says, just as Hook runs in behind her, an apology in his eyes. "I know this is all on me. My black heart. Everything, everything that has happened comes back to me forgetting that you were a child, Snow, but I've remembered now. There has to be a way to fix this. I'll do it. If there's any way for me to make amends..."

"There's not," Emma cries, even as she lowers the magical wall. "You can't fix this. My father is dying, and there's nothing anyone can do about it, and if you had any respect at all you'd leave my family alone now..."

It breaks him further when he realizes she can't continue, and he watches with accepting eyes as Hook steps forward, pulling Emma into an embrace.

He should hate it, he knows he should, but he'd long learned the pirate wasn't a bad man, and someone needs to hold her, and he can't, and Snow's holding him, and there's no one...

Brow furrowing, he stares over Snow's shoulder, past Emma and Hook and Regina, at the two figures he can see standing at the entrance to their camp.

Tink makes sense.

The person she's with, however...

"Snow," he murmurs. "I think... I think I'm starting to have hallucinations."

She spins to see what he's staring at, and then recoils in a way that doesn't make sense, because she shouldn't be able to see who's there.

Emma is held securely in Hook's arms, and she clings back to him as if she can't ever let go, and even to his eyes she looks like she belongs there, and he wonders what that looks like to anyone else, especially the man standing with Tink, staring at them.

"Neal?" Snow breathes.

* * *

Apparently she is having hallucinations with her husband, though it does seem strange that they would have the exact same one. Maybe the connection she has with him is stronger than she'd ever even thought.

Except now Emma, Hook, and Regina all seem to be staring towards Neal too, which makes this all seem - impossibly - real.

Emma and Hook have not let go of each other. If anything, they seem to be clutching to each other tighter, the two people who would be most impacted by Neal's impossible reappearance keeping each other standing.

She wonders what that looks like to Neal, and as he gapes at them, suspects it doesn't look like anything good.

"What's going on?" Neal demands.

"Bit of a funny question for you to ask," Hook says lightly, and she suspects it took a lot out of him to keep it so.

"You know what, you... Get your hands off of her, pirate."

"He's my friend," Emma finally says. "And I needed a hug. He'll keep holding me as long as I need him to."

Neal steps forward, arms stretched as if reaching for her. "Are you alright?"

"No!" Emma exclaims. "No, I'm not alright. You died. And then my son got kidnapped. And then we took a damn pirate ship through a portal to Neverland after him, where your father promptly abandoned us to fend for ourselves, leaving Hook as the only one of us who has a damn clue what he's doing. And we were stumbling along, trying to figure it all out, and then suddenly my father's dying on me, my mother and I are going to lose him, and then you show up, miraculously back from the dead, asking me if I'm _alright_?"

He throws his hands up in the air, stopping his progress towards her. "I didn't die, Em," he promises. "I got shot, but when I fell through the portal I got myself back to the Enchanted forest. Your friends, Aurora and Mulan, and Phillip -"

"Phillip's dead," Emma interjects flatly.

"Well he looked alive when I saw him. They helped me, they saved me, and Mulan helped me make my way to my father's castle, where we met Robin Hood, and we found some magic that let me find out you were in Neverland, so we summoned the shadow, which brought me here, to find you."

Emma blinks.

"How the hell is this even my life now," Emma mumbles to herself.

Hook strokes his hand over her back. "It's alright, love."

"Hey I told you to get your hands off of her!" Neal snaps.

"And she told you that it's not happening," Hook drawls back.

"You son of..."

"This is not helping!" she cries out finally. "None of this is helping. It doesn't matter how any of this happened, only that it did. All of you. You have the plan now. Go save Henry. That's all that matters anymore."

"And what about Dad?" Emma demands. "We can't just leave him here!"

"We won't be," she says as evenly as she can. "I'm going to stay with him."

"Snow..." Charming chokes out.

"Don't argue with me," she says softly. "I'm not leaving you."

"And then what?" Emma demands, crying again. "Dad dies, and you fall apart, and you're all alone..."

"Wait," Neal interjects. "He doesn't have to die."

Everyone spins on him.

"He got hit with Dreamshade," Hook says. "With no pixie dust, there's no saving him."

"No, I saw Henry. I had him. My father and I, we'd managed to get him away from Pan, but..."

"_What_?" Regina demands.

"Where is he?" Emma shrieks.

"You need to let me finish, Pan got him back..."

"Was he alright?"

"Did you tell him we love him, that it'll be okay,"

"I did, but he was knocked out, I don't think he heard..."

"He's _hurt_?"

"Everyone needs to stop!" Neal yells, patience gone. "I don't know what the hell has been going on with all of you, and I don't want to know. All I can tell you is what I've found out on my end. Henry has what is called 'the heart of the truest believer'."

Hook recoils. "I had thought that was only legend."

"It's not. Henry believes in magic, in our worlds, our lives, more than anyone. That kind of belief is magic in of itself. Pan believes that Henry is the key to bringing all kinds of magic to Neverland, including..."

"Pixie dust," Tink mutters, speaking for the first time.

"And that can save my father?" Emma demands.

"Yes," Tink says. "Pixie dust can reverse the effects of Dreamshade. If we can get to your Henry, if he can do as you say, if he can bring pixie dust back to Neverland, I will be able to save your noble prince here."

"What are we waiting for then?" Emma demands.

Regina nods. "We can do this. If we can all work together, we can pull this off."

They all begin readying themselves to leave, though she feels removed from it all.

"Mom," Emma murmurs, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We can do this. We'll do this for Dad."

Hook still stands at Emma's back, locking eyes with Charming. "You have my word that I'll do everything in my power to keep her safe."

"As will I," Neal snaps over, as he digs through the pile of supplies.

"Don't start again," Emma hisses, before turning back to them. "You both keep telling me to have faith, right?"

She manages a smile.

"Right," she agrees.

"We're gonna be back, Daddy," Emma promises, before getting up to leave. "We're going to save you."

"I love you Em," Charming manages.

"See you soon," Emma says, with only a slightly shaky smile, before she runs out of the clearing, followed immediately by Hook.

Neal turns to follow after them, a deeply unhappy look on his face, but determined, she jumps up to stop him.

"Neal, a moment," she demands, not asking. "Regina, Tinkerbell, leave us please."

Tink acquiesces without a word, following after Emma and Hook.

Regina stares at her, a deeply troubled look on her face, before looking down at Charming.

"Stay alive," Regina finally says. "Give me a chance to make this right."

With that said, she too leaves the campsite.

* * *

His energy is slipping rapidly, staying conscious and aware for this long taking far too much out of him when he'd had nothing left to give to start with. Still, he forces himself to stay awake, not wanting to miss what his wife has to say to Neal.

"You love her?" Snow demands.

"I really do," Neal promises.

"Good. I know Emma and Henry are your only real concerns. That works for me. That's exactly why, at the first sign of this going wrong, you're going to get the two of them off of this island. You're going to save them. Forget about everything else."

"Excuse me?" Neal demands.

"Snow," he tries. "What are you doing?"

For the first time in his memory, Snow ignores him.

"Emma will try to get back to us, no matter what. You're not going to let her. Hook will be a problem as well. Even Regina, given that she seems to have picked the exact wrong time to start feeling remorse. Besides Tink, you're the only one who could not care less about my husband and I..."

"You're Emma's parents!" Neal snaps.

"And as far as you're concerned, that doesn't mean much, because we weren't able to be there for her growing up, am I right? You do not care for us, and that's a good thing. You're the only one who can do what needs to be done, and that's to get my family the hell off this gods forsaken island."

"And what," Neal demands, "am I to tell her? That I left you to die?"

"That you saved her and her son. In time, that will be all that matters."

Neal shakes his head. "She won't forgive me."

"But they'll both be alive, and that's all that matters to you."

Neal can't argue with the truth of that.

"Go," Snow orders. "Come back for us if you can. But if there comes a time where you need to make a choice, you know what that choice needs to be."

"Good luck to you," Neal mutters, before running off into the jungle.

Snow sits back down, clutching his hand in his once more.

"Snow," he manages to choke out. "What have you done?"

* * *

She fights the tears as she looks down at him, her husband's sunken face. She doesn't like being so far from him, and with no one left to see, she takes the chance to lie down next to Charming, huddling as close to him as she can.

"We both know they're going on a wing and a prayer," she murmurs. "It gave Emma hope back, for now, and that's good, that's what she needed to get her focus back on Henry."

Charming coughs. "But the chances of this actually working..."

She shakes her head, and now lets herself cry. "Not good."

"You should have gone with them," Charming demands. "Go on, go after them now, you can catch up."

"I told you I'm not leaving you. It's not happening, Charming. Not this time."

"Emma needs her mother!"

"Emma's mother will be gone when you are!" she cries. "Snow White, Mary Margaret, whomever, anyone Emma knows, anyone Emma might have ever loved, she'll be gone. There will be no fixing me, we both know that, and I don't want her to see that. I don't want her to know what I become after losing you, _I_ don't want to know. I'm not going to do that to her, Charming."

"And what of you, Snow? What happens to you, when I'm gone?"

"I don't know. All I know is right now. Right now, I am going to lie here with my husband, and wait for whatever comes next. That's all I want, is to be with you. You can let me have that, can't you?"

With a last gasp of a strength she would have guessed was gone, Charming turns to face her, reaching out with his left arm to wrap it around her body, pulling her close to him.

"Yes, my love," he finally says, barely audible. "Anything."

Finally, finally, she manages to hold back the sob when it comes.

Resting her head on his chest, she closes her eyes, tries hard to think of all the times she's had with him.

Tries hard not to think of the cool steel of the blade she has hidden at her thigh.

Charming is dying, she knows.

And Snow White will be gone when he is.


	2. Chapter 2

_Your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine_

_You think your dreams are the same as mine _

* * *

Her eyes are burning. It hurts, and yet, it is nothing. Nothing compared to the agony of waiting for her husband to die.

Her eyes are closed, in an attempt to hide her tears that is probably failing miserably. She cannot stop crying, cannot fathom being able to, and behind closed lids, her eyes water and burn.

She likes it. Wants the pain. Why should be comfortable, when Charming is dying, and she can do nothing about it?

"Open your eyes, Snow," Charming whispers. "You're hurting yourself."

Oh, right. Charming wouldn't want her to be doing this to herself. That's why.

Blinking her eyes open, she hisses out a breath, uncomfortable, then hates herself for it. This is nothing.

"I wish you wouldn't do this," he says softly. "I'm not in pain, my love. It doesn't hurt. I'm not suffering."

"No," she mutters, staring at anything that's not him. "You're just dying."

He flinches noticeably. "Yes," he agrees. "I'm dying. And nothing can make that okay. Letting yourself be in pain certainly won't."

"I can't make it stop," she admits.

"You don't have to. It's just you and me, Snow."

"For how much longer?" she asks, voice breaking.

His arm tightens around her. "For as long as I can hold on, my love."

She can't think of anything to say to that.

"Look at me, Snow," he asks, so gently.

She cannot find it in herself to refuse him anything, especially that. Lifting her head slightly, she turns to him, raises her eyes to meet his.

He looks so tired, but his eyes are still so startlingly blue. She's never gotten used to them, never stopped being stunned by them. She'd thought she would have a lifetime to try and fail spectacularly at lessening the effect he had on her.

She cannot wrap her head around the fact that she's going to lose that lifetime for a _second_ time.

"Hey," he murmurs. "I'm not just gonna let go, okay? I'm not just gonna give up and say 'it's too hard' and go away. I'm dying, and I can't stop that, but I can promise you I'll hold on tight for as long as I can."

She bends down, kissing him so gently, so quickly. She wants more, she wants to take whatever she can get, and yet she doesn't want to take all that he has left at once.

He can't afford to be losing his breath.

"I love you," she says insistently. "So much. I don't... I haven't said it often enough."

"You say it every time you look at me," he murmurs. "I see in your eyes, and every smile. I feel it in every kiss, every touch. I know you love me, my darling. I don't need the words to know it."

This time, when she cries, she doesn't hide it from him.

* * *

He focuses on keeping his breathing steady and even.

He can do it. It's just... become something he has to think about doing, that's all.

"Snow?" he tries.

He will not keep secrets from her anymore.

"What is it, Charming?" his wife asks, and with the demand he hears in her voice, he knows she's heard something even more wrong in his.

The idea that he could ever hide anything from her now seems completely absurd.

"It's just... getting harder to breathe."

She closes her eyes again.

"Snow," he murmurs, hurt to have caused her any pain. "It's okay. If I focus on keeping my breathing even, it's okay."

Tears stream down her face when she opens her eyes back up to look at him. "Breathing shouldn't be a thing you have to focus on."

He pulls a half smile from somewhere. "I don't think should or shouldn't means much for me anymore, my darling. It's just what is. And you deserve to know. I'm not going to try to hide anything from you now. It's not fair to you."

"No," she sniffs, agreeing. "And more to the point, it doesn't work anyway. I know you, Charming. Inside and out. Secrets, they don't work between us."

"I'm sorry," he starts.

"Don't," she interrupts. "Don't waste your energy on an apology that's not necessary. I told you before, I understand."

"I know you do. Because you are the most unfailingly understanding person I have ever known. That's just who you are. But my beautiful Snow, I also want you to understand that I know I should have told you. That I regret not telling you, from the beginning. And that I hated myself just a little more with every lie I told you."

He can see her struggling to keep herself together, and feels his stomach twist with the guilt of it.

It's something of a relief to find that he can still feel at least that.

"Don't do that," she finally whispers, beginning to stroke a hand through his hair. "I can't hear it. I don't want you to hate yourself, not even a little bit."

"And if I can't help it?" he demands, even as he feels himself leaning into her like a cat angling to be petted.

She bends down, touches her lips to his in possibly the gentlest kiss they've ever shared in the life of a love full of passion and heat.

"Then I'll just have to love you more to make up for it," she says, so softly. "I love you so much."

Gods, does it hurt.

"I love you too," he promises. "Love you forever. Even when I'm gone, I'll love you."

Snow's lower lip trembles for a second, and he fears she's going to break down completely, but instead she manages a smile, so heartbreakingly beautiful, he loses the breath he'd worked so hard for.

"For all eternity," she manages, before her smile collapses.

The reference to their wedding vows is just about all he can take.

This time, when she cries, he cries with her.

* * *

_She's beautiful. Brilliant, amazing. He's long been one to admire women, but Emma Swan is different. She fascinates him. She's magnificent. _

_Even when she's tearing through the jungles of Neverland like the devil himself is chasing after her. _

_It's actually all he can do to keep up, and he's not slow. They've long ago lost everyone else. It's just the two of them now; her worried about everyone's safety but her own, and himself trying to keep her safe in addition to everyone else. _

_He hadn't signed up for this, the mess he found himself in. He'd just wanted to do something good for the first time in more years than he cared to count. Something more substantial than grabbing Aurora's heart before it had been lost forever. He'd wanted to do something to make amends to the people he'd hurt (at least those people who hadn't deserved it). Saving Bae's son, that would have done it, and then he could have been off on his merry way. _

_Emma Swan had not been part of the plan. _

_Oh, he'd been attracted to her, of course. From the beginning, he had been. But now? Now, he's spent time with her. Now, he's gotten to know her, and her family too, the epic backstory they bring with him. Now, he admires and respects all of them. And now he finds himself adoring her. _

_It's a profound kind of agony, he notices, adoring someone who seems about five seconds away from falling apart completely, breaking into more pieces than can ever be put back together. Keeping her whole (considerable baggage notwithstanding) has suddenly become all he wants in the world, but with her father on death's door and her son trapped in Pan's grip, the challenge of protecting her from all that would damage her gets more daunting by the minute. _

_One step at a time, he decides, and getting her to take a breath is step number one. _

"_Emma," he tries, "you need to slow down." _

_He has a lovely view of the back of her head shaking from side to side rapidly. _

"_No time to slow down," she huffs. "My father does not have time." _

"_Your father has time for you to slow to a jog, love. What he doesn't have time for is for you to keel over in exhaustion by the time we reach Pan's camp, which is what is going to happen if you keep going at this pace." _

_She doesn't say anything, but a slight stiffening in her shoulders gives him hope that he might be getting through to her, before she starts pushing herself even harder. _

_He groans. She might well be the most maddening human being he's ever met. _

_Beyond the last of his patience, he reaches forward, and gently grabs her arm. "Emma, sweetheart. Stop." _

_She spins on him, and he has only a second to feel relief that he'd gotten her to freeze in place, before he recognizes the look on her face, the wide-eyed, uncomprehending terror she only gets when someone goes unceremoniously smashing past the walls she'd so carefully built up, and he actually thinks about what he just said. _

Oh_. Damn it. Should have stuck with 'love'. _

_He _really_ hopes he's not blushing. _

* * *

_He's _blushing.

_She doesn't know what to do with that. Doesn't know what to do with any of this, her son's kidnapping, her father being near death, her ex magically showing up back from the dead (he got shot and then fell through a portal, damn it, but he's somehow fine?), her whole ridiculous fairy tale life. _

_And then there's Captain freaking Hook, who disarms her in ways that nobody ever has, all of which are ways that she really doesn't want to think too much about. _

_She's wanted someone to call her sweetheart her whole life. Hook just did. And now he's got the gall to blush about it. _

_No, she doesn't know what to do with any of this. _

_So she does as she always does, and plays it off, keeps it casual, while she fumbles around for the bricks meant to be in the giant hole Hook just broke through her walls. _

"_Sweetheart, really?" she asks wryly. Which is great. Perfect. Exactly what she was going for. _

_His blush deepens, so, yeah, that's definitely what it's about. _

_He shrugs. "It's an endearment, much as any other I use. You've never complained before." _

_Ah. So playing it casual too, then. Too bad for him he can't seem to get control over how flushed his face is. _

_She shakes her head at him. "And here I thought you had no shame," she drawls. Breathier than she'd intended, giving her a flirtatious note she really hadn't planned on, which, no good. Quality line, piss poor delivery. _

_He manages one of his altogether unfair grins. "I don't. I've never had shame. And I've always been rather proud of that, love, don't shoot me down now. I'll be so very disappointed. No shame, yes?"_

_Abort, abort mission, you're just flirting with him at this point, and DO NOT WANT, her mind screams. _

"_That blush of yours suggests otherwise," comes out of her mouth. _

_Damn it. _

_He closes his eyes, just for a second, and when he opens them back up, there is so much _feeling _in them that she has to suck in a breath. _

"_Emma," he sighs. "You know I care for you, you must know that." _

_Educated guess, sure, but what the hell is he doing... _

"_I didn't plan on it, and I know you don't want it. I know all you can think about right now is your family, and that's how it should be. I just want to help you, in any way I can. Because Emma, I need you to know that I'd do anything for you. And I know you're not one to trust on blind faith. I don't expect you to just trust me, I know you better than that. I've got to come through, I've got to come through for you. And I intend to. I'm going to do everything in my power to try and help you save your father, and to get your son back. But Emma, if I'm going to do that, you need to work with me. You cannot expend all your energy on racing through this jungle, leaving yourself with nothing to take on Pan. I'm not saying we take a leisurely stroll around the island, I'm saying we take it down a notch from an all-out sprint. I know this island, I know Pan. I can help you. So yes, _sweetheart_, please just let me." _

_He's got her back, she suddenly realizes, frozen and gaping at him. And he's wrong, she does trust him, she trusts him already, and she can't figure out when that happened. _

_She only knows that the walls that she's spent a lifetime building up, solid and strong for seventeen years until she'd met Neal, and then built back up to impenetrability for another decade after that are now lying in ruin around her feet for the man standing in front of her right now. _

_She's crying, and she doesn't care that he is seeing it. She can't believe that, but she grasps at it wildly. It's a lifeline. He's here, and he cares, and he's got her back, and she really freaking needs his help. _

"_I can't lose my father, Killian," she whispers. "I only just got him." _

_He reaches out to her. "I know, sweetheart," he murmurs. "Let's go try and save him." _

_She places her hand in his, and lets him both guide her through the jungle and set their pace. _

_Because she trusts him. _

* * *

His breathing keeps getting more staggered and uneven, and he knows Snow notices, as she continues to get stiffer in his arms.

There's nothing he can do for her, and it's infuriating. He's used to being able to _do something_, and it's this absolute uselessness, this complete inability to do anything to comfort her, that is the worst part of the whole miserable situation.

It's probably strange, but he's not overly upset about dying. It's what it will do to his family that he hates. His own life has always seemed rather insignificant to him, in the face of theirs. He's gladly risked his life for theirs time and time again, and he'd always planned on doing that right until the end. It seems appropriate, then - even if far too soon - that he should die having saved his wife.

But Gods, he doesn't want to leave Snow.

He just wishes, desperately wishes, that he could do something to make this easier for her.

And then she's shifting in his arms, trying to get herself in a more comfortable position, even as she continues to stroke her hand through his hair, so gently, and murmuring to him too, so quietly, "Do you remember when..."

Oh. _Oh_. All he's wanted this whole time is to help Snow, and apparently the only thing that will help her, is to take care of him. She's here. She stayed. And she's making things better, for him.

No one anywhere has ever loved anyone as much as he finds himself loving her in that moment.

And so he cannot quite help it, when he cuts her off, not quite letting her finish that thought.

"I remember every moment we've ever shared," he says fiercely, needing her to know, needing her to understand. "Every second we've spent together, I remember, for it's been a second I spent falling further in love with you."

He needs her to know that.

* * *

Her heart does its flippy thing, a feeling she'd long ago come to associate only with him. It had been quite the thing, the first time it had ever happened. He'd saved her from Regina's men, and she'd been staring at him, stunned that he would risk his life to do it when she'd only moments earlier turned on him. She'd been amazed by him, amazed by his goodness, and her heart had just... flipped.

She'd ignored it at the time, writing it off in her own mind as a delayed reaction to the danger she'd been in, but then they'd gotten his ring back, and she'd tried it on ostensibly for another chance to tease him, but really out of a need to spend more time with him that she hadn't really understood but followed through on anyway. And she'd loved it, she'd loved that ring, she'd _really_ loved the look in his eyes when he'd stared at her wearing it, and her traitorous heart had started doing cartwheels.

It had never really stopped since.

But it's never hurt before, not like this.

Oh, it's had its moments. Their journey together has been fraught with as much bittersweetness as it has been filled with joy, and that's always been difficult to accept. There've been so many moments where she's been caught head over heels in love with him, even through pain, even through sacrifice; but damn it, there was always _hope_.

She can't find the hope now. Emma had, or maybe it was just sheer desperation she'd seen shining in her daughter's eyes; either way she's glad for it. Emma should have something to go on. Her daughter can lead their merry band of avengers through the jungle on a wing and a prayer and a rescue mission that can go wrong so many more ways than it can go right.

But for herself? She just needs to take care of her dying husband, even as he keeps _saying things _that keep making her heart do painful, painful back flips.

"Remember when we got caught in the storm?" she finally says, completing the thought she'd first had before getting waylaid by her husband being charming.

His face transforms, going straight from determined focus to a slightly sly smile of remembrance, and she feels herself calm down, if only by a little bit. This is what she needs. She needs that smile to stay on his face, she needs his features to stay relaxed.

"How could I forget?" he asks, letting his eyes go hooded. "I have very fond memories of you, me, and the forest floor."

"That was entirely your fault," she teases. "I told you the storm was coming, I told you we didn't have time..."

"Oh, we would have had plenty of time," he smirks, tongue planted firmly in cheek, "if your screams hadn't scared off the horses."

"_My_ screams?" she demands.

"I explicitly recall you crying out to several Gods," he manages to proclaim with a straight face.

"Uh huh," she says, eyebrow raised. "Funny, because I only remember you begging _me._"

He grins at her. "Well, sure, that _happened_. I'm just talking about when you scared off the horses."

"You came first!"

"And you were loudest," he counters, pride sparking in his eyes. "Probably terrified the poor beasts."

She gapes at him, shaking her head, but she knows he knows her well, and he'll see her amusement shining through stronger than anything else. "I was _not_ that loud."

"You really were," he says, sighing with satisfaction, before _winking_ at her, of all arrogant things. "But no need to worry, my darling. I enjoyed it."

She laughs, unable to help herself. "I noticed," she teases.

Hey, if he can play it unfair, so can she.

He smirks back at her, then hums, seeming ready to move on now that he's chalked up a win for himself in his own mind. "Remember when we realized we'd lost the horses?"

Her laugh is slightly choked this time. "We were rushing to get our clothes fixed, we knew we had mere minutes before the rain was going to hit. You went to grab the horses, and suddenly you just _froze_, and you turned back slowly, and looked at me with the guiltiest look on your face, and you said..."

"Are you up for a run, my love?" they both murmur together, before laughing.

"We had maybe two minutes of running dry before the downpour came," he muses.

"And then we were running through the rain, chasing each other..."

"Blaming each other for our sorry predicament, laughing so hard..."

She shakes her head at the memory of it. "Most rainfall in a decade, that storm, and we were caught in the middle of it. I've never been so soaked in my entire life."

"I couldn't take my eyes off you, you looked so beautiful."

"You were watching me, so intent, driving me crazy. The rain just kept pouring down on us, and the air felt so heavy, I thought I'd go out of my mind, it was so..."

"Intense."

"Insane. I just wanted to get us somewhere safe and dry, and we found that tiny cave, stumbled inside, we fell back against the wall, and..."

"_And_," he agrees. "The and is always my favourite part."

She shakes her head at him. "You tore my gown."

"Accidentally!"

She scoffs.

"Alright, a little bit on purpose."

She laughs. "We were in that damn cave half the night, and when the rain finally let up, we walked back to the castle; me wearing a torn gown and your tunic, you shirtless, both of us still drenched to the bone, absolutely filthy."

"We snuck back in through the rear passageway, somehow made it back to our suite without being caught, got ourselves cleaned up, and went to bed. And then we spent the next day convincing the staff that we'd really been there in our rooms the whole time," he concludes, grinning at the memory.

"I don't know if anyone ever really believed us," she giggles, "but the horses made it back on their own, safe in the fields, so who was anyone to doubt us?"

"Had to love Thorion and Lokila," he hums. "Don't think we ever had smarter horses than those two. We'd have been caught for sure if not for them, and then Grumpy would have killed me."

"Nah," she shakes her head fondly. "Red would have gotten to you first."

He laughs. "I still say everything would have been easier if we'd just told everyone we were already married at that point."

"No," she says, smiling softly. "I liked it that way, our way. I've always liked it, that we had this secret, that was always just ours."

He tilts his head just slightly, to acknowledge his agreement and acceptance of that, before he moves to press a kiss to the top of her hair. "Is it still our little secret, after all these years?"

She nods. "I never told anyone. You never told anyone. Lancelot wouldn't have. I don't think it's in Henry's book... I guess it couldn't have been, unless there were invisible spies at the lake that day. A story is only a story if someone tells it. As far as everyone else knows, we were married in the castle chapel."

"Our real wedding was just ours."

She nods. "Just ours. Always will be."

He holds her tighter. "I do like that."

She nods. "Me too."

She finds herself trying to bury the note of melancholy that has just settled back over her, trying to keep it out of her voice. Their little walk down memory lane had made things better for a few moments, almost as if...

Almost as if he weren't actually dying on her.

He's looking at her, gaze soft but pained, and she knows he knows exactly what she's thinking, but she cannot come up with anything to say to fix that.

"Remember when we realized you were pregnant with Em?" he says, so softly.

He always was one to know exactly what to do and say.

There is not much left for them now, but there is this. They can continue walking down memory lane, because they both need it. They can love each other, because they always will.

They can take care of each other. That, they can do.

* * *

_He leads them to Open-Shut Cove, a safe enough place to wait for a number of reasons. It's not far from Pan's camp, but more importantly, the magic of the cove makes it so that any person speaking there can only be overheard by those the speaker wants to receive the message. _

_In other words, Pan could be standing right next to them, and it wouldn't matter, as he wouldn't be able to hear what they're saying. _

_Seems to work for Emma, as her face relaxes infinitesimally as he explains the cove to her. _

_He wonders about how well he is coming to know her, if he can see such a minute change in her facial expression. Oddly, that's not what scares him. _

_It's the bone deep knowledge that he will never get to see what Emma Swan looks like when she's completely calm and happy if they don't pull this nearly impossible task off. That's what terrifies him. _

_She needs her father. _

_And her father might not be able to be saved. _

_But no, he can't think like that. He must go into this with the mindset that Prince Charming can be saved, for it will do him no good at all to believe they're doomed from the start. _

_He wants to do this for her. _

_But, he realizes, as the rest of their rescue party finally catch up, led by a rather surly looking Neal, he is not the only one. _

"_Nice of you all to show up," Emma announces, though with the crocodile shockingly bringing up the rear of the trail of people now entering the cove, he can't say that he feels the same. _

"_It's not like my father's life is on the line, or anything," Emma finishes, and oh, that's some biting sarcasm there. _

_He decides he's very glad that he put in the early effort to keep up with the beautiful blonde. Better than getting on her bad side. _

"_We stopped to increase the cavalry," Neal drawls. "Dear old dad has his faults, but he knows Pan, and we could use his help." _

"_He hates my father," Emma snaps. _

"_On the contrary, dearie," the imp comments blandly, "I actually have a great deal of respect for both your parents. They're challenging, and I've long admired a challenge. Certainly, I don't wish either of them dead. The three of us are Henry's grandparents. I wouldn't call that a bond, but it is a connection. You have my word, Ms Swan, I will try to help save your father, for the boy's sake." _

_Emma had been staring at the imp the whole time he spoke, but as he finishes, she turns to look back at him, as if to ask what he thinks. _

_It means more than he'd be willing to admit to anyone, that she wants his opinion. _

"_You know how I feel about the crocodile, love, trust him as far as you can throw him, but I think we've got to take him at his word at this point. We don't have time to waste, and we can use all the help we can get. He might actually be of more use than even he realizes." _

"_What do you mean?" Regina demands. _

"_If Henry does in fact have the Heart of the Truest believer..." he starts._

"_I told you he does!" Neal interrupts to snap. _

"_According to Pan," he points out, gritting his teeth to keep calm. _

"_Who doesn't lie," Rumplestilskin hisses, defending his son. "He can be taken at his word, even if that word is always meant to play games and mess with his victims' heads." _

"_Three guesses who that reminds us of," he mutters under his breath. Only Emma seems to hear, but the slight smirk on her face tells him she got it in one. _

"_Can someone please get to the damn point?" Regina snaps. _

_He nods. "There is more to the legend of the Heart of the Truest Believer, that Pan must not have considered, or he wouldn't have allowed Emma to live through their run-ins..." _

"_What's that supposed to mean?" Emma demands. _

"_Magic, it doesn't appear out of thin air, love. That kind of power always comes from somewhere. Henry's magical lineage is... considerable. His paternal grandfather is the Dark One, the most powerful magical being there has ever been, and his mother is the product of True Love, the most powerful magic..." _

"_A," Emma corrects. _

"_I'm sorry?" _

"_I'm _a_ product of true love, not _the_." _

_He shakes his head. "I'm not sure that's the case, Emma. If true love were that common, many children would be products of love, and have the resulting power. That's not the case. You're the only one I've ever heard of." _

_Rumplestilskin looks surprisingly intrigued. "Much as I hate to agree... the pirate may have a point." _

_Regina nods. "I've never heard of a child inheriting the magic of true love before. But Emma's ability will be formidable, once she's able to harness it. She may in fact be more powerful than Rumplestilskin and I." _

_Emma appears outraged. "More powerful than _you two_?" _

"_Combined," the imp says mildly. _

"_Oh come on! True love is _not_ that powerful!" Emma snaps. _

_Everyone just looks at her. _

"_Is it?" she asks, voice surprisingly small and vulnerable. _

"_I think theirs might be special, love. Your mother knew your father was hurt, even though he was making every effort to hide it from her," he says softly. "That's a connection more powerful than true love usually is."_

"_He felt it when she ate the poisoned apple," Regina volunteers. "He was miles away from her. There was no way he should have known something happened to her. But my magic mirror reported that he suddenly started screaming her name, in inexplicable agony, at the exact moment Snow fell into the enchanted sleep. He knew. True love definitely doesn't usually work that way." _

"_True love has always been the most powerful magic of all," Rumplestilskin says, "capable of breaking any curse. But that's usually the extent of it. Your parents... they've always been special. Different. Extraordinary. I was able to bottle True Love by combining their hairs. And I used that resulting magic to create the Dark Curse." _

"_That's why I was the Savior," Emma says, "that I know, but..." _

"_You were the Savior of a curse that kept hundreds of people's memories buried, their personalities transformed, time frozen for twenty-eight years, Ms Swan! The single most powerful curse ever unleashed, created almost entirely by harnessing the power of their love. My own additions were only turn the magic dark. That is not ordinary magic! It would not have been possible with any couple who just happen to be true loves, because your parents are not just any old couple. The truest of loves create a soul bond. But your parents? If what Hook and Regina have said about their psychic connection is true, it stands to believe that their souls _fused_. They are One. It's never happened before in all of magical history. It is the purest magic that has ever been known, and you, dearie, have inherited it," the imp announces, fascination sparking disturbingly in his eyes. _

_He shifts slightly, moving his body in front of Emma, blocking the crocodile's view of her as best he can. _

_Emma doesn't seem to notice, appearing understandably overwhelmed and terrified; but Neal certainly does if the blackness of his glare is any indication. _

_He rolls his eyes. He doesn't have time for the other man's posturing, he needs to help Emma, and he turns back to her. _

"_I can't..." Emma stumbles. "I can't wrap my head around any of this right now. Someone just tell me what this means for my son." _

"_It means," he starts, "that while you were the product of the truest of loves, Henry is comes from two lines of sheer magic. But more than that, he's of opposing forces. The dark power of the crocodile, the pure - light - magic of your parents, and more directly, you. Opposites in magic, love... they're insanely powerful. But because the light came directly from you, and came from both maternal grandparents; while the dark skipped a generation and only came from one paternal grandparent, the influence of the light would have been stronger. That's why Henry has the heart he does, why he can believe so strongly in the forces of good. He has the Heart of the Truest Believer, because you gave it to him. And the power of belief... is considerable." _

"_And this helps us... how?" Tinkerbell demands, speaking up for the first time. _

"_The Legend," Neal gasps, staring at him, apparently stunned enough to forget he was furious. "'Magic calls to belief, belief calls on magic'." _

"_Oh my Gods," Regina murmurs. "You think we can reach our son?" _

_He ignores the dark haired woman, in favour of the blonde staring at him, wide-eyed with the wonder that is hope. _

"_Oh, I think we can do more than that," he grins. _

* * *

"_Have you got this?" she demands, staring at Rumplestilskin warily. _

"_Oh, we both know _I've_ got this, dearie," the imp says cheerfully. "The real question is, do you?"_

"_It's my son's and my father's lives on the line," she snaps, glaring at him. "Of course I've got this. And hey," she drawls, fighting to keep the rage out of her voice, "apparently I'm more powerful than you are anyway." _

_Rumplestilskin grins back at her. "I've always liked you, Ms Swan. Such spunk. No need to hide that anger from me, dearie! _Use it_. Remember, magic is emotion." _

_She shakes her head. No use wasting vital energy on him. _

"_You've got us covered, Regina?" she asks. _

"_It only makes sense," Regina agrees. "The magical lines of Henry's birth to summon his heart, and the magical line that raised him to take care of the rest. Yes, I'll have your backs." _

"_Remember," Rumplestilskin says, "aim for Bae." _

"_I know," she hisses right back. "And whose idea was that again?" _

_The imp doesn't answer, though his face twists slightly, and she feels vindicated on Hook's behalf. _

"_Careful love," he murmurs from somewhere behind her. He's scolding, but she can hear the smile in his voice. "You must have absolute focus. We'll have company in seconds." _

"_I know," she says, completely different this time, almost fond. "I'm ready." _

_And it's as if her words are a signal, for they all step forward as one, out of the cove, back into the dangers of Neverland's jungles. _

"_Now!" Hook cues them. _

_Together, she and the imp send powerful, pulsing waves of magic into the night, straight towards where they know Neal is waiting. Only a half second later, Regina sends out a spell of her own, protecting and guiding; curving Rumplestilskin's magic backwards, straight into her own. The force of the collision between dark and light magic sends a shockwave straight up into the sky, directly from the point at which Neal waits. _

_Perfect. _

_A snap. As one, they all spin towards the source of the sound. _

_Peter Pan has appeared, in all his spitting rage. _

_Just in time. _

"_Did you really _think_," the demon-boy snarls, "that I would be fooled by some simple magic trick?! That I would be lured elsewhere by some hocus pocus sent into the sky?" _

"_No," she grins fiercely. "But my son would be." _

_For the first time ever, Pan looks stunned. _

_Which is perfect timing, really, because before he can say anything else, they hear Neal cry out from the magic's epi-centre. _

"_Henry!" _

_The slicing sound of the slash of his sword in the air. The agonized scream of Felix as he dies, the thud of Pan's most loyal follower's fall. And then... silence. _

_Pan sways where he stands. _

_Come on, she thinks. Come on, Neal. Send us the codeword. For Henry. Tell me our son is okay. In the next three seconds. One, two, three... _

"_Anaconda!" Neal bellows from the distance. _

_Pan looks thunderstruck. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"_

_Gotcha. _

_Part one of Operation Anaconda, get Henry back: A rousing success. _

"_It means we've taken our son back, boy!" Regina hisses, murderous. _

"_Regina!" Hook snaps, warningly, which worries her. _

_She can hear the strain in his voice, can guess at what it means. _

_The Lost Boys have come. _

_And Peter Pan does not look in the mood to be merciful. _

"_Attack!" he screams. _

_They do. _

* * *

Memories fade away in unconsciousness, and in the Beyond.

He'd managed to stay awake for her for much longer than he would have guessed possible, the memories fueling him. Perhaps his life had been flashing before his eyes. He's heard that's a thing.

That's all gone now. Everything's gone now. Everything, except...

He wonders if this is a dream, or if this is death. If he's merely lost consciousness, or if it's all over, if he's gone.

He wonders, because he doesn't know.

He doesn't know, because impossibly, she's here too.

"You shouldn't be here," he tells her.

Snow's smile is vibrant. "Of course I should. I'm with you. I shall always, always be with you."

"Where are we?"

She laughs. "Where do you think we are?"

He ignores that. "But... I'm dead?"

"Are you?"

"Aren't I?"

She tilts her head at him, curious. "You don't know either?"

He's scared. It feels strange, wrong. Fear doesn't belong here.

"What do you mean 'either', Snow?"

She doesn't reply. Her expression doesn't change, still open and warm and loving. She still smiles.

"_How_ are you here with me?" he demands. "Are you... are _you_ dead?"

And yes, he's scared, because when she finally answers, the words make no sense.

"I don't know."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's Note: Oh man, this was a thing. _**

**_I clearly went a different route with this story than the show did, but in case it needs saying: The Lost Boys? Not the innocent little boys who just wanted a home that the show turned them into. My Lost Boys are battle-hardened soldiers who have every intention of killing our heroes. _**

**_I still choose you might well be the most painful thing I've ever written. It was, indeed, the first time I've ever found myself crying while writing. You're going to hate me while reading. All I ask, is that you finish the story, no matter how much you hate it. _**

**_If you still hate it and me at the end, I welcome your fury, because I wildly fangirl over any and all reviews I get. _**

**_Love you guys, my lovely readers. Thanks for your support, and your patience during the wait. _**

* * *

_I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back_

_The less I give the more I get back_

* * *

He wants to be furious. But he... he can't quite work that up here.

"How can you not know if you're alive or dead?" he demands.

Snow tilts her head at him, a gentle smile playing at her lips. "You don't know if you are."

Exasperation, apparently, _is_ possible here. He rolls his eyes. He can't believe he's rolling his eyes, in this kind of circumstances, but his wife - his beautiful, cheeky, maddening wife - just seems to draw it out of him. "I don't know, _because_ you're here. I'd know if... you shouldn't... if I were dead... You can't be dead, Snow. You just can't. You shouldn't be here."

"You're here," she says softly. "And I'm with you."

"You keep saying that."

"It's how it is."

He groans. "You know that, but you don't know if your heart still beats?"

She bites her lip. "You don't know, Charming."

Frustration grips him. "So that's it, then? That's all I get? You're here, and you don't know anything."

"I'm not just here," she tells him. "I'm _with_ you."

Something about the way she says it this time breaks through to him. "You don't know anything," he says slowly. "Because I don't know. You only know what I know."

She nods.

It _hurts_, this sudden rush of simultaneous relief and pain. "This isn't real," he breathes. "_You're _not real. I've made you up. This is all just in my head."

Her face changes, loses the pacifying smile she'd worn this whole time. She shakes her head. "It's _me_, Charming. I'm with you. I don't know any more than you know, only that I'm with you and it's where I'm supposed to be."

"No," he insists, fiercely. "If I'm dead, no, you're not supposed to be with me. You can't be dead, Snow!"

"Okay," Snow murmurs gently. "Then I'm not."

He stares at her. "I don't think it's as simple as just deciding not to be dead."

She hums, considering. "Maybe it is, here. What do you want, Charming?"

Hanging his head, he sighs. "What I want stopped mattering long ago, my darling. I'm gone. If I've lost consciousness and this is a dream or hallucination, or if I'm already dead, I don't know, but it's immaterial anyway. There's no saving me. But you, there is more for you. So all that matters now, is getting you _home_."

To his great surprise, his wife barely seems to be paying attention, staring past him, biting her bottom lip against the smile that threatens to spread across her face.

That smile wins the battle by the time she makes eye contact with him again, for she is beaming at him when she finally murmurs, "Maybe we already are."

Bewildered, he stares at her for a few long moments, before it finally occurs to him what that might mean.

He spins, wildly, so that it takes a second before his vision clears enough to see what's in front of him.

There, not too far in the distance, just visible through the thick fog, is their castle.

It's impossible.

But they're _home_.

* * *

She hadn't known. She'd... she'd taken a guess, that this place was _his_, that she'd been brought here with him, for him; even followed him here. But she hadn't expected it to turn out like this.

He'd brought her _home_. Just not the way he'd planned on. He'd meant to send her back, she knows, to send her away from wherever they found themselves now.

But this place, wherever - _whatever_ - it is seems to take things more literally, seems to take Charming at his word. He'd wanted her to be home.

This castle was always supposed to be their home. She doesn't know much, but she knows that.

She laughs. It's wild and slightly choked off, as if there's some profound sense of loss and pain behind it, but ultimately, it's real and it comes from joy.

"What the hell?" Charming mutters from just behind her.

She has no answer for him. Not one he'll accept, anyway, so she says nothing, just takes a step forward, a step home.

"No, Snow, wait!" Charming demands, and she can hear it in his voice, the worry, the distrust. And she knows, just knows, that he desperately wishes he had his sword, so she stops, she waits for a moment, waits for it.

She doesn't even have to look. She knows it's appeared on him as soon as she hears the sudden intake of breath.

"What the _hell_?" he mutters again.

It's easy to start walking back towards the castle after that, even when she hears the groan that signals Charming's immediate disagreement. She simply spins, so that she's facing him, but still walking, backwards, towards the castle, and flashes him a quicksilver smile.

"It's okay, Charming," she calls. "We're okay. Nothing's going to hurt us here. You make the rules. And we both know you'd never let any harm come to me."

He still looks skeptical, staring at the castle with wary eyes, but there's a curiosity there too, in the tilt of his head, in the way he bites his lip when he makes eye contact with her again, before exhaling and following her forward.

He may have severe reservations about all of this, but he'd never leave her to go in alone.

For the first time in over twenty-eight years, they're going home.

* * *

_The funny thing is, he's never particularly enjoyed fighting. It had always been more his brother's thing, all fire and pride. Of the two of them, he'd been the calmer one; more concerned with honour and a fair fight than actually winning it. _

_Losing his brother had changed him, of course. _

_He'd never known hate before that. _

_Oh, but he'd learned it, fast and bitter. He'd hated the King, he'd hated Pan, he'd hated everyone and everything. There was some small part of him who even hated Liam, for not listening, for being so bloody headstrong and stubborn and stupid, and most of all for leaving him alone, all alone. _

_Whenever those thoughts snuck up on him, he'd hated himself too. _

_Hate corrupted, he'd always known that, and it certainly had him; turning him into someone his younger self would not have recognized nor been able to stomach. _

_And then... Milah. _

_She'd brought the hope back into his life, the light. He'd devoted his life to revenge on the King through piracy, and taken no satisfaction out of it. No, his was a soul that had always craved companionship, and indeed, Milah had made him happy again. He'd delighted himself with thoughts of how much Liam would have adored her, the sister-in-law who would have been. _

_He should have known better than to have taunted her husband. He knew Rumplestilskin's type; such weakness, such fear. _

_There had been ghosts behind the coward's eyes. _

_A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets, yes; but he knew better than anyone that a haunted man is a desperate soul. Rumplestilskin would never fight fair, he'd take and seize. _

_The mistake had cost him Milah. _

_It had left him with nothing, again. He'd devoted his life to revenge, again. _

_And what good had it ever done him? _

_He'd become Captain Hook; Killian Jones gone and presumed dead. And Captain Hook had done whatever he chose - pardon the language - no fucks given. _

_He fought. All the time he fought. And he always won. _

_His last loss had cost him his hand and his heart, and he'd sworn he would never be beaten again. _

_He'd become the most feared pirate in the high seas, so feared he was respected even in Neverland, home to that demon child. _

_And he'd hated every last miserable minute of it. _

_He'd never liked to fight. _

_Which makes rather it odd, he thinks, how very much of his life he's spent doing it. _

_But this one is different, he decides quite quickly, and that much is obvious right from the off. For when the demon boy orders the onslaught, his own first move is to shout out a panicked reminder to everyone that their attackers' weapons are laced with the very poison that is already killing the prince. _

_He's been fighting for himself for the better part of 300 years. _

_It feels strange, very strange, to now find himself fighting harder than he ever has, for someone else. _

_But as strange as it does feel, it's also healing. _

_He's in love with her, the beautiful blonde, wielding the sword around like she was born to it, and in some respect she was. _

_After all these years, he lets Milah go. _

_Emma is here now. _

_And damn if he's going to let anyone take her from him. _

* * *

_At first, she's ferociously cursing every moment she has spent not learning how to harness her magic, for the powerful fireballs Regina and Gold are throwing seem like a much more poignant weapon than the sword she's still somewhat wild with. However, it quickly becomes clear that the Lost Boys have set defenses against magic, when Regina has to duck against one of her own fireballs returning back to her like a damn boomerang. _

"_How many times do I have to tell you all?" Pan hisses, evil incarnate. "You want to play the game here, you play by my rules." _

"_Your rules involve a rather fatal poison," Hook roars back. "Far from a fair fight, _boy_." _

"_Nothing wrong with using the tools my island gives me," Pan smirks. "I believe you know as well as I do, that Dreamshade is readily available to anyone willing to risk its effects. Isn't that right, Lieutenant Jones?" _

_Hook's face has twisted into an unfamiliar grimace; agony she both doesn't understand and understands all too well flashing in his eyes. She is utterly unsurprised when he throws the knife at Pan in a fury, though bitterly disappointed when their enemy simply flicks out a wrist and stops the weapon's procession in its tracks. _

_He holds the knife in his hand, tilts his head, and smirks. "Gonna have to do better than that, Lieutenant." _

_Nausea twists her stomach. Pan is one to talk about using magic. _

_She spares a glance for Hook even as she continues to fight, and it happens to be at the exact moment he looks over at her. _

_There's a brokenness to his expression that shatters her, if only for a second, before something in his eyes changes, hardening somehow, becoming more determined. He looks frightening, but she's not afraid. Would never be afraid, not of him. _

_He reaches into his jacket, pulling out another weapon, and refocuses on the fight. She does the same, but with the more than slightly distracting thought of the way he'd looked at her flashing through her mind. _

_It is rather overwhelming, she thinks, to realize that you are another person's strength. _

_But she cannot afford to be distracted right now. Not in this situation, not while fighting the Lost Boys for all of their lives, not when they are so badly out-numbered, and frighteningly out of their league skill-wise since their magic has been neutralized. Tink is trying her best, spunk and buried anger helping her fight, but it couldn't be plainer that she'd never really fought before; that she'd always kept to herself in a lonely little life. Regina seems overwhelmed, her magical crutch lost to her, and while Rumplestilskin is dealing with it better, his attempts to fight are defensive at best. _

_Hook knows what he's doing, knows very well, and he's fighting like all hell, but some instinct tells her he hates it. But he does it anyway. Does it - she knows now - for her. _

_So it's him. He's all they've got, pretty much. _

_Because then it's her, wild with the sword she's still unsure of; the sword her father was supposed to have taught her how to wield. She should have been great at this, and with a bow too - that would have been Mom's doing. She was supposed to have spent her entire life learning how to defend herself, learning to be like them, strong and brave. _

_She's struck by it, how badly she longs for them now. Snow White and Prince Charming, sure; badasses the both of them, the best fighters their group had. But more than that, she wishes Mom and Dad were here, with their ferocious protectiveness. They'd keep her safe, she knows. They'd take care of her, even at their own expense. _

_They love her. They love her so much, and damn it, she's not about to lose it now that she's finally accepted it. _

_She yells, twenty-eight years of fury and regret and fear released into the air, and throws herself headlong into the fight, taking out the Lost Boy she'd been struggling with, spinning and going after the two who'd cornered Regina and Tink. At the slash of her sword, those two Boys fall as well, leaving the two women to stare at her, stunned silent. _

_She doesn't have time for stunned. She spins back to the centre of the fight. _

"_Who's next?" she roars, murder in her voice. _

_She needs to get back to Mom and Dad. She _needs_ to save her father. _

_So it's time to be her parents' daughter. _

* * *

Coming home is eerier than he would have imagined.

He feels a profound sense of loss from the moment they walk in the main doors, though he can't quite wrap his mind around what that loss is. Only that he feels it, with every step he takes. Hears it, echoing in the silence.

The castle is not meant to be quiet like this, empty like this.

They are alone here, so utterly alone here. He's unsure of it, unsure of their being there.

Snow seems to handle it better. Not at peace, no. There's ghosts in the shadows of her eyes, but she walks ahead of him, marching through the castle with a purpose he cannot find in himself.

She's searching for something, he knows, but he can't imagine what. Everything was lost, the castle was destroyed -

He freezes.

He has _no idea_ where that thought came from, that bone-deep certainty.

The castle is not destroyed at all. There is no damage. It is completely, entirely whole, as it is meant to be.

And yet... and yet he cannot shake the feeling that it shouldn't be so.

"Snow," he calls. "This doesn't feel right."

She slows but doesn't stop, allowing him to catch up to her but continuing through the castle.

"What is it you're afraid of?" she asks, softly. "We're home. Nothing will hurt us here."

"We _have_ been hurt here," he says, paradoxically both unsure and certain of it. "I know we have."

She nods. "We have. But we weren't in control then, Charming. Everything was out of our hands. We don't have to worry about that here."

He stares at her. "I still don't know what you mean?"

Snow flashes that quicksilver smile again. "You do, my Charming. You do know."

He sighs. "Can I have a hint?"

She laughs, easy delight that is as familiar to him as his own name (the name she'd given him, that had always felt more _his_ than anything else he'd ever had, until he'd had her too).

"Oh, Charming," she murmurs, an echo of the laugh still in her voice. "I think, I really think, that you need to stop thinking so much. It's not going to help you here."

He smirks. He can't help it, it seems to be a nearly conditioned response to her at this point.

"And what would you recommend in place of thinking, my dear?"

"Go on faith?" she suggests, with a twist of her lips that suggests she's still fighting a smile. "Of the two of us, I do believe you're supposed to be the optimist. Stop second guessing yourself so much, Charming."

"It's not myself I'm second guessing."

"Isn't it?" she asks.

"No!" he insists, fiercer than he'd wanted. He takes a deep breath. "I don't like this. I don't trust this situation. Walking through our home after it appeared out of thin air, it feels like a trap."

"I promise you, it's not."

"How can you know that?" he demands. "You keep insisting you only know what I know, and yet you have a trust and a certainty right now, that I just don't have!"

She blinks up at him. "Is it not obvious? Charming, the certainty I have right now is because I trust and believe and have faith in you."

"How is this about me?"

She doesn't say anything, simply raises an eyebrow at him, but it gets the point across.

"We keep going round in circles," he sighs, frustrated. "You know nothing, yet you seem to know much more than me, but you refuse to tell me, because I should know, because you only know what I know, which is nothing!"

Snow shakes her head, apparently amused. "I guess that's one way of summing it all up."

"Snow," he groans, dragging out her name. "Please, please, just tell me, so I can stop worrying that we're about to get clobbered by some horrible monster bashing its way through our walls?"

She grins at him. "Oh Charming, you would never let that happen."

He scoffs. "I don't think I make the calls here!"

He sort of wishes he wasn't quite as familiar with the smirk that spreads across his wife's face then. He's seen it so very many times, her 'my husband's being an idiot but hell if I don't love him anyway' expression.

And it's that expression which finally clues him in that what he's been missing is something rather obvious. He'd even said it himself.

The realization of it damn near staggers him.

"The castle appeared out of thin air. But only when I wanted you to be home."

Snow is beaming now. She's beautiful when he finally gets things.

"My sword was suddenly on me, the second I wanted a way of protecting you."

"I told you you knew," she murmurs gently.

"Nothing's going to hurt you here, because I would never let it. I'm in control here. This land, whatever it is... it does as I want it to."

"Yes, Charming. You've got it now."

They continue through their home together, though he pays no attention to where they are headed, otherwise distracted - understandably, he thinks.

"Then I am dead," he says suddenly, struck by the pain of it. "And this is just... this is what comes after, for me? 'After' for me is you, and anything else I could want, as if I could ever want more than you?"

She shakes her head again, though differently than she had just moments earlier. She had been teasing and amused, now she seems pained and almost panicked.

"We don't know that, Charming," she insists.

He doesn't mean to ignore her, but it's hard to focus on anything else.

"You... you can't be dead. You just can't, there's no way. I don't accept it. So you're not really here with me. It's an illusion. A lovely, perfect, beautiful illusion that I've somehow been granted. The Gods saw fit to let me keep a piece of you."

"Charming, no!" she says more forcefully than anything else she had said here. "We've been through this. It's _me_. _I_ am here with you."

"You can't be..."

"You'd _know_ if it wasn't really me. You'd know. You'd feel it."

He finds himself staring at her. Something about what she's saying... she's right. He knows she's right. If it weren't really Snow, he would be able to feel it.

And all he can feel now, looking at her, is that all-consuming love.

He thinks maybe she can tell, because the fear leaves her eyes, and her face relaxes into her always stunning smile.

"I love you," he whispers.

She kisses him, quick and determined, and yes, that is her, that is Snow all the way, to answer his vocalization of his love for her with the act to show her own.

"As I love you," she promises, slipping her hand in his.

He still can't shake the fear he feels. It doesn't make sense that she should be here with him, wherever it is they are.

He refuses to believe she's dead. It's simply not possible.

Does that then mean he's not either?

But if he does still live, if this is just a dream or a hallucination, how is it that she shares it with him? For this is not ordinary - though he's spent countless nights dreaming of Snow, it's never been like this, never been this real. His mind alone could never recreate Snow in all of her absolute perfection quite this way.

No. Whatever this is, wherever this is, she was right. She's here in it with him. It's really Snow. They're in this together, sharing it together.

Besides, if this were all of his mind's invention, he's pretty sure he would have had himself rather than his wife being the one who knows what's going on.

Then again, she was always the smart one.

She continues to lead them through the castle now, an obvious purpose to her steps. Wherever she's taking him, there's intent to it; and yet he's not sure that it's for him. Something about the look in her eyes...

"My darling, where are we going?" he asks softly.

"I'm not sure," she says, and he can just tell she's being honest. "I just feel like... something happened here, and we need to..."

She cuts herself off when they finally emerge into the room he knows as well as she does had been their destination all along.

They have reached the nursery.

And the memories, immediate and sudden, are piercing.

The room is undamaged, though he knows it shouldn't be. Knows that his blood should be on the floor; knows from some faint recollection gained while only - and barely - semi-conscious that the ceiling should not be in tact.

Knows that at least in this part of their home, the roof had been ripped off when the Curse hit.

He glances over at Snow, knows that the memories have come back to her just as strongly as they have for him just by the stricken, stunned look on her face. She'd been back here, he knows, with Emma when they'd been sent back to the Enchanted Forest together. The room had been absolutely destroyed, she'd told him. He wonders at how strange this must be for her to see it so whole, so unbroken now.

It's strange for him, and he hadn't even seen it at its worst.

"Snow," he tries, but she just shakes her head, and he swears he feels his heart drop.

It would have been hard to see it completely destroyed, he knows, but seeing it here, now, exactly as they'd painstakingly designed it, looking for all the world as if their baby should be there in her cradle...

He doesn't realize he's longing for that; longing for the baby they lost, until he hears her cry, and sees Snow's face go ashen.

_Emma_.

* * *

_He's never seen her like this. _

_Caught in a fury, she is wild and deadly, all flashing eyes and murderous snarl, a vengeful goddess of another realm. _

_Of the Enchanted Forest. _

_She should have been raised a Warrior Princess, daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, respected and beloved and just a little bit feared worlds over. _

_Hell of a time for Emma Swan to find her lost past inside of herself. _

_She's taken out five of the Lost Boys already, and he's contributed another two to the cause, while Regina, Tink and the crocodile seem to have found it prudent to just get the hell out of the Savior's way. _

_Still, Pan does not make it a habit of losing. He still has oncoming forces, Lost Boys appearing seemingly out of thin air. They are brutally outnumbered, even with Emma suddenly fighting with all the force of an oncoming gale. _

_They can't win this, he thinks with a sudden swell of sheer panic. Not unless Emma's got a miracle up her sleeves. _

_His stomach drops in horror as he realizes he's not alone in this thinking. _

_Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of Neal running headlong into the midst of the fight, dodging and ducking weapons. He carries Henry, protecting the boy's unconscious body with his own, but he finds himself scarcely able to see the protective gestures, only that Emma had trusted Neal with her son, and yet he brings him straight into the fight. _

"_What the hell are you doing?!" he demands, reaching out to grab him, but Neal simply lowers a shoulder into his chest, knocking the wind right out of him, staggering him, and then continuing on as if nothing happened, as if nothing else matters. _

_He doesn't know Neal. But he did know Baelfire, the boy he'd once wanted so badly to call his own, and oh, he can see the boy in the man, even as he's down and out trying to gain his breath back. The fear on his face, the desperation, oh that was all Bae, but so too was the hope, the headstrong stubborness he'd always get when he was doing what he thought was best, and oh no, oh Gods no. _

_Emma was not to be distracted from her ferocious fight, so she doesn't see it coming when Bae - Neal - runs straight at her, until the very last second, when he grabs her, and she cries out. _

"_What the hell are you doing?" she screams, and he'd be heartened, heartened by how very alike he and Emma are, but not right now, not like this, not in quite possibly the worst situation of his entire life - and he's had a very very long, very very crappy life. _

_Neal ignores her protests, shifting Henry in one arm and picking Emma up using the other, with the strength he knows the lost boy would have started harnessing during too much time spent in Neverland. _

_Emma fights him, and fights hard, screaming in a panic that cuts at him like knives, but she is limited, limited because her son is right there with her and she won't hurt him; and Neal is running on adrenaline and fear and the desperate desire for the family he'd felt was robbed for him. _

_Neal doesn't think they can win, he knows. Neal thinks they will all die should they keep fighting, should they keep attempting the insane rescue mission of the man dying - perhaps already dead - back at their camp. _

_Neal thinks they've been defeated already, and so Neal is cutting his losses, and trying to save the only people he cares about anymore - his son, and the woman he loves. _

_He understands it. Really, he does. If they're all doomed - seems that way - Emma alive, and with her son, it really does seem like the best case scenario. Even though it's not with him. At least she and her child would live. _

_Yes, he knows why Bae is doing this. _

_But it's not what Emma would want. _

_And so, he hauls himself back to his feet, clumsily dodging the weapons still flying around everywhere (Regina, Tinkerbell and 'Stilskin having thrown themselves back into the fight having realized they're in all kinds of trouble), forces himself through the pain, so much pain, pain, pain. He struggles, he runs, and he just manages to reach the messed up little family just as Emma connects with Neal's jaw on an uppercut. _

_With the man who would have been his stepson just slightly off balance from the force of Emma's punch (he's felt it - it packs a wallop), he hauls the boy out of his arms into his own. _

"_No, no, no I promised!" Neal cries out. _

_He shakes his head. "Not like this, Bae." _

"_You can't stop me!" Neal screams, reaching to grab Emma and Henry both once more. _

_But yes, yes he can. _

_He didn't want it like this. _

_But Emma didn't want it like that. _

_He reaches round with his hook hand, and carefully turning the sharp end away, he slams the hard cuff that exists where his wrist once did against the back of Neal's head, knocking the other man as unconscious as his son. _

_Emma stares at him, disbelief and resignation and just the slightest hint of gratitude waring in her eyes. _

"_Not like this," he whispers, weak, already so weak. _

_Her subtle nod of acknowledgement means the world. _

_He spins back to face the fighting, Emma following his lead. _

_They're all they've got. And so the boy he still holds... needs protection. _

"_Regina!" he bellows. _

_With a poof, she appears immediately next to him, while Emma leaves to take her place in the fighting. _

"_Keep the boy safe," he begs, handing Henry to her. _

_Regina nods. "I'm his mother." _

"_You're not his only one," he mutters, running back into the fight, eyes only for Emma, who seems unaffected by the altercation with her ex, if not for an increased fury. _

_Pan, floating just above the melee cackles, delighted. _

"_Turning on your own now, are we? Perhaps I should just leave you all to kill each other, you're doing such a fine job of it already." _

"_Go to Hell," he breathes. _

"_Oh come now, Hook, I thought we were already there? An eternal nightmare for you all, sounds about right. All we need now is the death of every last one of you, and oh, we are so close. Some of you are already gone, no?" _

_He glances at Emma just in time to see all the colour drain out of her face. _

"_No," she whispers. _

"_I made you a promise, Emma. Remember, when you first came? I told you you'd be an orphan. Did you really think Daddy was going to survive? You poor, naive little Lost Girl." _

_Emma's glare is like ice, her expression turned to stone. _

"_No more!" she screams. _

"_Excuse me?" the demon boy asks, incredulous. _

"_You missed the update, you little shit," she hisses. "I'm not a Lost Girl anymore. I'm found. I have my family. I have my parents." _

_She looks straight up into the night sky then, eyes slightly shadowed, as if she's gone somewhere else, as if she's not entirely there where she stands. _

"_And they've even given me a present." _

_When the pulsing wave of magic she has called upon appears, they are _all_ staggered by it. _

_And something tells him that Emma Swan actually does have a miracle up her sleeves. _

* * *

"Emma," Snow murmurs through a broken smile, as she strokes the back of the crying baby's head. "My sweet girl. Mama's here."

"I didn't mean to," he whispers, stunned. "I didn't mean to bring her here."

"Oh we know, don't we baby girl?" she coos to the baby. "This was just what was meant to happen, wasn't it? A gut feeling led us here, so we could come back to you. Because our family, we always find each other."

How many times can his heart break?

"_Snow,_" he tries.

She shakes her head. "It's our do-over, Charming. That's what this is. You and me, and our daughter, from the beginning. With no threats, no curses hanging over us. Just us. We can finally have our happy ending."

He can't want it. He can't.

But oh, he wants to want to.

* * *

_The power courses through her. _

_The Savior, that's who she is, that's who she's always been. The daughter of the truest of loves there has ever been. _

_She has more magic inside of her than anyone who has ever existed. Good magic. Pure magic. _

_So she can do things that no one else can. _

_Pan and his little minions have neutralized fireballs, but the island's magic is fair game? _

_Fine then. She'll just have to call on the island to do her bidding. _

_The squid ink she pulls from the sea to freeze them all, that's the easy part. Now they're all trapped where they are, though it didn't exactly differentiate between Team Good and Team Bad and Team Depends On the Situation (who freaking knew it was her destiny to team up with so many fairy tale villains?). _

_But hell, she doesn't have time to sort that out, so everyone on her side can sit back and shut up and listen too. _

"_The island is fair game, didn't you say, Pan?" she roars, letting her rage and her pain overtake her. _

_The demon boy glares at her. "You may think you've won now..." _

_With a wave of her arm, he is forced to shut the hell up. "I didn't say you could talk! When I said no more, I meant no more of any of this! It's over!" _

"_Because here's the thing your all-knowing powers failed to inform you of. There's more to me than the Lost Girl you think you can manipulate. There's more, because that's not who I am anymore. I am Snow White and Prince Charming's daughter. And you know what happens, when you're born of that kind of love? _Magic_." _

"_I'm more powerful than them," she announces, vaguely waving a hand towards Regina and Rumplestilskin. "And I'm more powerful than _you_. I can do things that you could never have ever dreamed of in your sick, twisted little mind." _

"_And you know what one of those things is?" she whispers, walking close to Pan's prone body, until her face is inches away from his. _

_She wants to see the fear in his eyes when she kills him. _

"_I can manipulate nature. And oh, oh, oh, does your little island of damnation come with its own built in little weapons, doesn't it?" _

_And yes, there's the dawning horror she was looking for. _

_She grins, feral and threatening. _

"_This is for my father." _

_She sticks her right arm straight up into the air, palm outstretched, and brings the Dreamshade plant down upon them, having used her other hand to shoot protection spells at everyone on her side first. _

_The Lost Boys fall to the ground en mass, killed immediately, for unlike her father who'd just barely taken a nick from a weapon laced with the poison; she cuts them up directly with the source. _

_Pan has no followers left. It is him and him alone, for she'd left him alive just long enough to see it. _

_The Demon knows it's over. _

_And she has no mercy to spare. _

"_Just using the tools the Island gives me," she says calmly. "After all, if I want to play the game, I have to play by your rules." _

_With a flick of her wrist, she sends the Dreamshade directly into his heart. _

_And the Demon hits the ground with finality. _

_She spins to face her allies, strange group though they are, and with a snap of her fingers, releases them from their frozen state. _

"_Apologies," she says, voice flat. "There wasn't time to spare on pulling the magic off you all." _

_She glances over at where Regina sits, stunned, with her son beginning to stir in her lap. _

"_Now let's go save my Dad." _

* * *

Snow doesn't offer to hand the baby to him, and he doesn't ask.

He can't do it. He can't let himself get attached to this.

It's not real.

"Snow," he tries again.

She doesn't look up, eyes only for the baby. But she speaks to him, and her voice, the longing in it, is near hypnotic.

"Stop fighting it, Charming. I know you want this. I know you want our happy ending, it's all we've ever wanted, together."

"It's ours, but what of hers?" he asks. "We're alone here. There's no one else."

"We're all we need," Snow murmurs.

"For now," he insists. "For now, all our baby girl needs in the world is her parents. But what about when she grows up, into that beautiful woman with my eyes and your smile? What about then, when she wants her true love, when she wants her turn at being a mom, when she wants her little boy?"

Snow's lower lip trembles. "We could figure it out..."

"You know we can't. Maybe this is my happy ending, and yours and mine were always intertwined; but Snow, it's not Emma's."

She finally looks up at him. "This is our second chance!"

"We got our second chance already, Snow. Our baby girl is all grown up. She's in Neverland, and she's waiting for you. You need to go back to her."

"I can't go without you!"

"I don't think I can be saved."

"Then why can't I stay here? With you? We can be together here!" she cries.

"This isn't real, Snow."

"Of course it is! You feel our love, you feel how real it is. This isn't like the Siren!"

"No," he shakes his head, fighting the tears. "No, this is far more painful, because this is you I have to let go of."

"I need you!"

"And Emma needs you," he whispers. "Not that baby I wished up, but our real, beautiful, vibrant daughter."

Snow sobs, choked with it, clutching the baby to her.

"Come with me," she begs. "If I have to go back, you have to at least try to too. Our daughter needs you too."

"Okay," he cries with her, pulling her into his arms, granting himself the tiny joy of stroking a hand over the baby's soft hair. "Okay, I will try."

* * *

_The boy wakes up during the frenzied race back to camp. _

"_Henry!" his mothers both cry out. _

"_Mom!" he calls. "Mama! You're both here! Is... is Dad asleep?" _

"_That's one way of putting it, Henry," the crocodile mutters, as he maneuvers the magical stretcher that carries his son through the jungle. _

"_I did what I had to do, or we were all dead," he huffs, though disappointingly lacking in the murderous snarl he can usually muster for the imp. _

_Stilskin glares but says nothing, which he decides to take as tacit concession. _

"_Henry," Emma starts, "You're safe now. I promise you that. Pan is gone. We're all going to leave Neverland soon, but you have to do something really important first. It's time to be a hero, Henry." _

"_What do I have to do?" Henry asks, already eager for the task. _

"_Gramps is in trouble," Emma says, and he can tell it's a fight for her to keep her voice steady for her son. "He got poisoned. But we can save him, with pixie dust. This is Tinkerbell," she says, gesturing behind her to the fallen fairy, who smiles back at the boy. "She's a fairy. She can help us, but she doesn't have any pixie dust." _

"_You need me to believe, so she'll get some?" _

_Pride flashes in Emma's eyes as she smiles. "That's exactly right. Do you think you can do it?" _

_Henry nods. "I know I can. It's why Pan brought me here. I can bring magic back." _

_The boy closes his eyes, and they all freeze and go silent, just outside of their campsite. Minutes pass, and no one says a word. _

_No one, until... _

"_Oh Gods!" Tink shrieks. "It's worked! He's done it! I have magic back!" _

_The relief in possible salvation is glorious. _

"_And you'll hold up your end of the bargain?" Emma demands. _

"_Of course," Tink says, beaming. "Lead the way. Let me bring back your father." _

* * *

_They walk into camp, and the first thing she sees is that her parents are both unconscious. _

"_Dad!" she yells, running to them, and in the back of her mind she can hear Henry crying out too, struggling to come to his grandparents with her, and she thanks God and whichever of her allies that grabs him for stopping him, because she doesn't want her son to see this. _

"_Please be alive, please be alive, please be alive," she begs as she checks his pulse, and yes, she finds it. It's faint, too faint oh God, but there's something there, barely there, staggered and weak and oh God he's dying. _

"_Tink!" she screams. "He's alive, but his heart's stopping, do something!" _

"_The poison must have just reached his heart," she vaguely hears Hook say, though it seems from very far away, overtaken by the sound of heartwrenching sobs that it takes her far too long to realize are her own. _

"_It's alright Emma," someone says. "I can still fix this. Just give me some room to work." _

_It's Hook who finally pulls her away from her father's body, she knows that. She knows he's trying to help, so she doesn't fight it, but she screams, oh she screams. _

_Tinkerbell - that's who it was - kneels over the bed where her parents lie, and hovers a hand over her father's chest, moving it down along to his abdomen. She can see the pixie dust even from the distance Hook holds her away at; can see the magic of it, and she begs, pleas, prays to every God she can think of that it is working. _

_Finally, Tink stands back up, and backs away. _

_She has to swallow three times before she can even attempt to speak. _

"_Did it work?" she manages in a hoarse whisper. _

"_I've gotten the DreamShade out of his body," Tinkerbell says. "Now it's just a question of if we got here in time." _

_She pulls away from Hook, and he lets her go this time, allowing her to run back to her father's side. _

"_He's still breathing," she says, checking it. "And his heart still beats. It's steadier than it was before. That's a good sign, right? It has to be a good sign!" she demands of everyone there. _

"_Of course it's a good sign, sweetheart," Hook murmurs from behind her, and it's good to hear, but she has to wonder if the man who loves her is just humouring her. _

_It's fear like she's never felt, and she finds herself painfully relieved that her mother is sleeping through this. _

* * *

He wants to let go of everything this land gave him.

And so it goes.

His sword disappears first, then the castle around them.

Snow still holds the baby.

She stares at her. "How is she..."

"I make the rules here, remember? And we get the chance to say good-bye."

Her eyes fill with tears immediately. "Thank you, Charming."

She doesn't say a big speech. He wouldn't have expected her to. They've done this too many times before.

"Hey baby girl," she murmurs to the baby. "It's okay. You grew up. But we love you every bit as much. So we're coming for you."

"We love you, Emma," he agrees, kissing the baby's head, just as she vanishes too.

He expects Snow to sob with the baby now gone, a rehash of the sobs he'd heard at his back a lifetime ago, as he tore through the castle with a newborn in his arms; sobs that had haunted his nightmares even as David Nolan.

But no. No, Snow smiles at him, fiercely.

"I love you," she promises. "I _always_ will."

"And I you," he replies, willing himself not to cry, willing himself not to show his fear.

He knows she knows it anyway.

He doesn't believe this will work, but he had to try. For Snow, he had to try.

But when they step into the unknown abyss together, he is utterly unsurprised when he loses his grip on her hand.

* * *

"_Daddy?" she asks. "Daddy you need to come back. You need to wake up." _

_Nothing. It's been so many minutes, too many. Hours, maybe. Feels like it, anyway. _

"_Wake up, Dad!" she demands. "Wake up! You have to wake up!"_

_She lets herself cry. "Don't let this be it, okay? It wasn't enough. It hasn't been enough. I need more time with you. _Mom_ needs more time with you. We both need a lifetime. We need... we need the life we always should have had, me and you and Mom, and I'm finally ready to give it, okay? I'm finally ready to really be your daughter, so you need to wake up and let me." _

"_Sounds good, kiddo," he murmurs. _

"_Daddy?!" she gasps, staring at his face. _

_His eyes blink open. "Hey, Em." _

"_Oh my God," she sobs. "Thank God, Dad, Daddy, you're alive. You're going to be just fine. We fixed everything. The poison's gone. We got it out in time." _

"_You did it, baby girl," he murmurs, and the sheer pride on his face has her beaming and weeping both. _

_She's waited her whole life for a father, and for him to look at her like that. _

"_I'm so glad you're okay," she laughs out of the pure relief, glancing behind her for just a second, where she can see Hook flashing that - okay, yeah, gorgeous - grin at her, and further back Henry's jumping up and down, hugging his now conscious father. _

_And Mom, she decides, Mom needs to be a part of this. _

"_Mom, wake up! The plan worked, Dad's gonna be fine!" _

_Snow doesn't stir. _

"_Mom?" she asks, glancing at her father. "Is she usually a heavy sleeper?" _

"_No," he says, sitting up, shifting his wife in his arms. "No, she's not." _

"_Snow?" he tries, shaking her shoulder lightly. "My darling, it's time to wake up. Emma did it. I'm going to live. We can go home." _

_Still nothing. The cold coil of fear and dread begins curling in her stomach once more. _

"_Mom!" she demands, yelling it. _

_All the colour her father had gained back with consciousness has drained out of his face. _

"_Snow, Snow, Snow," he tries. _

_She grabs her mother's arm, feels around her wrist, before dropping it in terror. She can't find her pulse. _

_Nearly blinded by panic, she shoves past her father to lean down against Snow's prone body to search for a heartbeat, for the sound of her mother's breathing, anything. _

"_I don't... I don't think she's..." she chokes. _

"_No!" her father snarls vehemently. He kisses her mother, almost brutal with the force of it, but nothing. Grabbing Snow's arms, he shakes her harder this time. _

_Hard enough so that the knife falls off her mother's body to the ground with a thud. _

_She recoils violently off her parents' cobbled together bed, spins out of Neal's arms where he has come to try to hold her, stumbles to the bushes off at the edge of camp and vomits. _

"_Don't touch me!" she screams through aching sobs, when Neal tries again to grab her arm, shoving past him to get back to her parents once more. "It's not true, it's not true!" _

_Somewhere through the haze, she can hear everyone else, can hear Regina screaming a wordless release of horror and pain into the night, can hear Henry hysterical, struggling violently as Hook tries to drag him the hell out of the campsite, knowing, just knowing that he cannot be here for this. _

"_No, no no, no, no!" she cries. "Dad, she wouldn't have done it. She wouldn't have done it to me." _

_Her father is shaking, tremors all over his body, but he nods vaguely. "There's no... there's no wound anywhere. She didn't do this to herself, I know she didn't, but I can't figure out..." _

"_Soul fusion," Rumplestilskin murmurs, and there is actually profound regret in his voice and on his face when she and her father turn to stare up at him. _

"_What are you talking about?" she demands. _

"_I didn't want to tell you back in the Cove, Ms Swan, for I thought the fear of it may shaken your focus from the task at hand. But when I said your parents' had a soul fusion, rather than the soul bond that characterizes every other true love that the realms have ever known, I meant it in every way. Their souls were tied together forever, Emma. So when your father's heart slowed, and his soul began to move on from his body, your mother's went with him. I believe we got here just in time for your father, that Tinkerbell was able to stop the poison _just_ as his heart stopped beating. It lost a beat, maybe two, but we were able to bring him back." _

"_What does that mean for my Mom?" she asks. "My Dad's soul came back, Mom's should have too!" _

_Stilskin closes his eyes. "Her soul would have already left her body to be with his, while we essentially grabbed and pulled your father's back. And at that point, with your parents' souls now in different... spaces... for a moment, just a split second, they lost grip of each other. She went on. And he didn't." _

_And her father breaks before her eyes, collapsing, clutching his wife's body in his arms. "Snow," he cries. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I'm here, come back!" _

_She will never, no matter how long she shall live, be able to get that image out of her mind. _

_She stands up. _

"_Fix this," she demands of the imp. _

"_I would if I could," he says, and she's stunned to hear his voice actually shake. "I was very fond of your mother. Believe me, if there was something I could do... But no magic can bring back the -" _

"_DON'T SAY IT!" she screams, shoving him. "You son of a bitch! You should have told me! You should have warned me! This is your fault! You did this to her!" _

"_If there was something I could have done differently..." _

"_You're all fucking powerful!" she sobs. "The God damn Dark One! You could have done everything, everything different!" _

"_I'm so sorry Emma." _

"_SHE'S NOT GONE!" she shrieks. "And if you won't save her, I will!" _

"_There's nothing to be done," he tries. _

_She hauls off and punches him square in his beady little eye. _

"_I'm more powerful than you are," she threatens. "And I am her child. I can do this. If her heart stopped when my father's did, I'll just link them back together again. I'll make her body feel that his still lives." _

_Clutching at his face, Stilskin stares at her appraisingly. "I'm not sure that will work..." _

_She damn near snarls at him. "That's a far cry from 'it won't'." _

_Running back over to her father, she reaches out, touches his arm. For a moment she fears he is past all sense, but his daughter's touch gets through to him. _

"_Daddy," she murmurs. "It's not over yet. I refuse to believe it's over. I have magic. More than anyone. You and Mom gave it to me. And I have to try." _

_He nods. "Okay. Try." _

* * *

_He gets Tinkerbell to give Henry what is effectively a magical sedative, knocking the boy out again. _

_He feels sick about it, but there's nothing for it. Henry was hysterical, and if they weren't careful, the state he was in, he'd hurt himself, make himself sick. _

_He hands the boy to Neal without a word. Better he be held by his father, than a pirate he doesn't know. _

_And then he collapses to the ground and covers his ears against the sound of Emma sobbing, Emma railing against Rumplestilskin, Emma giving the monster the hell he deserves. _

_He'd have done anything, given his life, to spare her this pain. _

_But then, then he hears the faintest note of hope come back into her voice, and he looks back up. _

_It's impossible. But if anyone could do it... _

_He watches as Emma and Charming work together to lay Snow back on the bed. Watches as Emma directs her father to kneel next to her, to match his wrist against his wife's. Watches as Emma finally sends a link of shimmering purple magic to tie between where Charming's pulse is and Snow's should be, trying to force Snow's body to feel how her husband lives. _

_Watches for many minutes. Watches when Charming gives up, bowing his head in broken grief. Watches the tears stream down Emma's face, watches her bite her bottom lip out of pain, out of stubbornness, out of refusal to give up, even past time when she probably should. _

_He watches them. _

_So he doesn't see it, until it's too late, when Regina stands, and from her own hands, shoots an opaque dome to overtake the bed, and Emma and her parents with it. _

"_What did... what did you just do?" he cries out. _

"_I sent them into a magical antechamber," Regina says, voice flat and broken. "Soundproofed and windless, it'll give Emma's magic its best chance to succeed. The elements won't interfere with it now, and she won't be distracted by us." _

"_Will it work?" he demands. _

"_I don't know," she murmurs, voice cracking. "I doubt it." _

"_And if it doesn't?" _

_She finally looks at him then, with eyes filled with tears. "Then I've given Snow's husband and daughter a private place to let her go." _

* * *

She can't... be gone.

What is he supposed to do without her?

They're alone. Just him and Emma. Everything and everyone else has disappeared.

It's better that way, he thinks vaguely. Nobody else should be a part of this. It's his and Emma's loss.

She would have been so proud of Emma. So overjoyed with the way Emma had embraced who she was. They could have been a real family, if only they'd been given the chance.

If only they'd been given the chance.

He feels it, when Emma drops the magic. Sees it, when she pulls her legs into her chest, curling her body into the tiniest ball possible, and sobs.

He should comfort her, he thinks. Snow would want him to.

But he's broken too. Who's to comfort him?

He picks Snow's body up, pulling her tight into his chest, and cries.

"I'll come for you," he promises through tears, through sobs that feel as though they'll tear his chest in half. "Someday. I'll take care of our daughter, and our grandson. I'll make sure they have a good life. And someday, someday Snow, we'll be be together again. I love you so much, forever."

His voice breaks on the last word, and he resigns himself to being unable to speak.

But Snow always did prefer action to words, and so he kisses her, with all the love he has in him.

His heartbeat feels staggered, and he cannot, cannot get enough air into his lungs. His whole body aches, it aches so badly.

Is this what dying feels like? Stilskin said the connection was gone when their souls got separated, but it doesn't feel that way. It feels like he's going to her.

It feels like she's calling for him still.

The way he's holding her to him, his heart is right against where hers would be.

And for a second, just a second, he glances over his wife's shoulder to Emma, and their eyes connect.

Their daughter, their beautiful, amazing, perfect daughter is crying.

But there is something fierce in her eyes too. Pain and determination, and hope, still hope.

Their daughter hasn't given up yet.

And when the magic shoots out from Emma's heart, sending a trail right in between his heart and Snow's, and then careening into a 'T', branches stretching into his heart and his wife's, linking the three of them together, a human family tree, connected by the pure magic that is love...

That's when he feels Snow's heart beat.

"Snow?" he breathes, disbelief obvious in even sighing her name.

Oh, how it hurts to hope. He's convinced now that if this fails, if it's not real, he would simply cease to be, unable to go on to a life without her.

"Did it work?" Emma demands, letting the magic fade away.

And he's scared, so scared. With the magic no longer connecting them, he fears that the beat he feels against his own chest will fade back away into nothingness.

But, no. It continues, steady and strong and so damn reassuring, like she's just asleep, there on his chest, the way she's slept for so many nights.

"I..." he stumbles. How can he tell Emma that it might have, but he's really not sure? How can he let her feel the same panicked mixture of hope and panic and love, desperate, desperate love that he's feeling right now?

And then, and then he doesn't need to tell her.

Because she sees Snow's eyes blink open just as he does.

* * *

_She sobs openly. _

"_Mom," she cries. "Mom, Mom, Mom." _

_For her part, Snow seems mostly bewildered, but puts up a good front. _

"_Hey, Em," she hums sleepily. "Um, where the hell are we?" _

_Yes, she cries, and so does her father, but oh, do they laugh too. _

* * *

_He can feel himself fading, but he doesn't say a word, staring at the dome Regina had created with all the desperation he can muster. _

_They've been in there too long, he agonizes. They've been in there too long, and so all hope must be gone, they must have lost her, Emma, Emma, Emma, and oh he just wants to hold her, wants to hold her without saying a word, because what words will help her now? She'll want her father, only her father, and maybe her son; she'll want her little family because only they'll understand her loss, and Gods, what can he give her now? _

_The dome finally fades away after an hour, maybe two, and the little family emerges, and Emma's face is, as always, the first thing he sees, and it's shining, shining with - _

_Joy. _

_She did it. _

_She found one more miracle. _

_Snow White lives. _

_They're all going to be okay. They're all going to make it home, together. _

_He was able to do what he came here to do. He was able to help Emma save her family. _

_So, he decides, it's finally okay to pass out. _

* * *

"Killian!" Emma shrieks.

And oh hell, he thinks, are they all gonna take a turn dying on each other before they make it off this God forsaken island?

Emma's running over to the collapsed pirate, and he needs to help her, needs to help his daughter, but his wife literally just came back from the dead, and she's still slightly unsteady on her feet, and he's kind of serving as a human crutch to her, and the last thing she needs is to be dragged over to help with another desperate rescue attempt.

The hand on his shoulder startles him, and he nearly jumps ten feet in the air when he sees the hand belongs to Regina.

"Go," she tells him. "I've got Snow."

And it's strange, so strange, that he suddenly trusts that. Snow nods to agree, worry for her daughter showing all over her face, and there's too much of that to be even vaguely concerned over Regina, so he passes Snow's weight off to his stepmother-in-law (which, yup, still weird), and runs over to join his daughter by Hook's prone body.

"What the hell, what the hell?" Emma cries.

"He get hit?" he demands of her.

"What? No! I don't think... he would have told me!"

He can't help it. He snorts. "Yeah, no he wouldn't have." He glances over his shoulder to the fairy. "Tink! You happen to have any pixie dust left?"

"I have enough," Tinkerbell says, walking over to join them. "Has the poison reached his heart yet?"

"No. Heartbeat's still steady, breathing is even." He lets himself smirk then. "Just doesn't have the pain threshold I have, clearly."

Emma shoots a glare at him just as she finds where, yes, Hook clearly had taken the slash of a sword to his side. "Nice, Daddy. Mock the wounded."

He grins, unrepentant. "If you had any idea the crap Hook's been giving me since he first knew I was hurt..."

"Sensitive soul, your daddy's got," Hook groans, gaining consciousness again. "Can't even take a few casual slights on his impending doom."

Emma laughs at that, and yes, he can't help but feel slightly offended.

He cheers up quick though once Tink works her magic, because the second the wound's gone, his daughter turns her glare on the pirate.

"Just so we're clear," she threatens with a tilt of her head, "if you die, I'll kill you."

"Are we all quite done dying then?" Rumplestilskin demands, still staring over at Snow with rather a lot of disbelief. "Because if you don't all mind, I think it's high time we get back to Storybrooke."

"Yeah," Emma murmurs, patting Hook's shoulder with a look of affection that he is going to try very hard not to ponder the meaning of.

She's still, and always will be, his little girl, and so it means every world when she reaches over to grab his hand and pull him back over to Snow with her.

"Let's go home."

* * *

It's a long, strange, voyage home.

There's so many awkward, confusing dynamics between everyone on the ship now; and so many bewildering discussions that need to be had.

She's still not entirely sure what happened tonight, and neither her husband nor her daughter appear particularly eager to share the details, beyond that she'd basically been gone, and Emma had saved her, bringing her back.

Well, considering the agony that had been waiting for Charming's death, she can understand entirely her family not wanting to relive her own, and so she doesn't push them. They're alive, all of them, and at this point, that's what matters.

But hell if the imp isn't going to have some explaining to do soon.

She's curious, too, how they managed to save Henry, and that's a story that everyone is willing to regale; a tall tale of legends and magic and holy crap, her daughter being more powerful than she would have ever dared to imagine.

"At the end of the day, kid," Emma tells Henry, "we figured out that your heart will always seek magic. 'Magic calls to belief, belief calls on magic'. You were born out of two magical lineages, and so we figured our magic could summon your heart to it, even if you weren't aware that was what happened. Pan knew we were up to something - he thought it was an attack on his camp to grab you away - so he had Felix knock you out and make a run for it with you, but Pan guessed wrong. Even when you were unconscious, the combination of mine and your grandfather's magic brought you to it, and your Dad was waiting for you there."

"Cool," Henry says, delighted by it, this new story that he is very much a part of.

Oh, yes, she has so many questions, about so many things.

But right now, here, sitting on deck, curled - very, very tightly - in Charming's arms (he hasn't let go of her since they left camp), smiling a 'good night' as Emma leads her son off to go to bed... well, maybe she doesn't need explanations right this second.

Maybe she's doing pretty great as is.

Her husband's alive. Her grandson is safe. And her daughter has developed a brand new insistence on calling her 'Mom'.

Yeah, she's just fine.

Hook works alone and quietly to manage the ship's course, gently turning down any offers of help. 'Stilskin and Neal sit together talking, a lifetime's worth of complicated emotions to work through together. Tinkerbell, having decided she was more than ready to leave Neverland, sits higher up on deck, staring out at the seas spread before them with a look of overjoyed wonder written across her face.

Every so often, they see her shoot green sparks into the air, and hear her accompanying giggle.

And Regina... Regina approaches herself and Charming, plainly uncomfortable and unsure in a way that she is quite certain she has never seen her stepmother.

"Regina," she says calmly.

"I'm glad you're alright, Snow."

Maybe it's the shock that makes her say it, because she can't imagine it coming out of her mouth otherwise, when she teases, "Can't have me die unless it's by your own hand?"

And yes, she can feel Charming stiffen in surprise behind her, but Regina...

Regina chuckles.

"I deserved that," she muses. "But no more, Snow. No more. You _were_ a child. I'd lost sight of that, until you said it. I let pain take over and turn everything dark, and it was easier to blame you than to blame my own mother. I was... too young too, I think, when it happened. Young and immature, and so head-over-heels in love with a dead boy, and I let myself forget how very young you were. I twisted and turned what had happened so many times in my darkened mind that you became a monster, rather than a little girl. And you were... you were such a little girl. My little girl, you could have been, if I'd just let myself remember how I adored you, the innocent little thing I saved off a rampaging horse. Yes, Snow, you were right, about everything. Every last thing that has happened from the moment you saw me kiss Daniel that night was my fault. I shouldn't have burdened you with that secret. I should have warned you that my mother would resort to trickery. And I should have run away with Daniel when I had the chance; or told your father as you suggested, he was a good man, he could have helped. So many things, I could have done differently, and that's my fault. And I can't fix it. That's what I hate most, I can't fix any of it. But I am sorry, Snow. I am so, very, very sorry."

Blinking away tears, she exhales shakily, grateful, ever so grateful, for Charming's reassuring presence behind her; for the way he holds her just the slightest bit tighter, letting her know he's there, keeping her steady, keeping her strong.

"Okay," she murmurs.

"Okay?" Regina asks.

"It's all I can give you right now," she admits. "I appreciate... I so appreciate that you're finally saying these things, but Regina, they've come so out of no where..."

"You died," Regina interrupts, the first one to actually say it, and she feels Charming flinch considerably behind her, and so she reaches back to touch his hand, reassuring him as he did her.

"You died," Regina continues, "and I realized how very badly I didn't want you to. I want you to get your happy ending. I want you to have the life I kept stealing from you. And I want... a chance. I can't fix the past, Snow, but I want a chance to fix our relationship."

"I've tried," she sighs. "Regina, I've tried so many times..."

"This time will be different."

"How?"

And finally, Regina smiles the easy, affectionate smile she hadn't seen since she was twelve years old and thought Regina was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen.

"This time I'll be trying too," Regina promises.

She swallows. She wipes furiously at the tears streaming down her face. And then, finally, she nods.

This time _is _different. The woman standing before her right now, she's not the Evil Queen.

She's the woman a twelve year old had wanted to be her mother.

"Okay," she says again. "One more time. We'll try."

* * *

"_Hey," she murmurs to her parents, having rejoined them once Regina had come to take over watch-Henry-sleeping duty with a strange - almost hopeful - smile she'd never seen on the other woman's face before. "Any chance I can wiggle in here?" she asks, showing her offer of the biggest blanket she'd been able to find on the ship. _

"_Of course," Mom replies with a radiant smile, opening up her free arm to let her curl into her side. Dad takes the blanket from her, spreading it over the three of their bodies, taking great pains - she can't help but notice - to ensure that the vast majority of the blanket covers herself and her mother. _

_Some things, she decides, just won't change. _

_But some things will. She's twenty-nine years old after all, and clinging to her parents like they might disappear into thin air if she doesn't hold on tight, for the very first time in her life. They huddle together, curled into each other, holding each other, and she feels, very much, like a little girl. _

_And that's kind of really okay, she decides. She's no child, no, but she's their little girl, and she's finally ready to accept that. _

"_How are you feeling?" Mom asks gently. _

_She snorts, in an expression she's recently learned she very much inherited from her father. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" _

"_Mmm, maybe," Mom hums. "But I'm holding my daughter while my husband holds me, so I think I'm doing just fine. But you... you've been through so much." _

"_It's over now," she starts to brush off, but then stops. "But yeah, I was... terrified, Mom, the whole freaking time. You have no idea how much I need you guys." _

_Mom places a kiss to the top of her head, and it might just be the best thing she's ever felt. "Oh, we know Em. We know." _

_She swallows. She doesn't want to say this... but no, she has to say it. It's a discussion they have to have. "Mom, you know I get why you told Neal to take me and Henry and run, right?" _

_They're all close enough together that she feels her mother stiffen and her father flinch. _

"_No, no, don't worry about it. I do. I understand all of it. I'm a Mom too, now, so I get it. I was more important to you than you are. You needed to know I would live. I completely understand that motivation." _

_Mom manages a smile. "But you don't agree with it." _

_She nods. "I would _never _have willingly left this island without you guys. I lived twenty-eight years without you. I'm not giving you up now. And I need _you_ to know that. I need my parents." _

_Mom tilts her head. "And you needed Neal to know that too," she suggests, prompting but not pushing, in the parenting technique her father had long ago perfected and her mother has started to learn. _

_She smiles, bittersweet but genuine. "I know why he did it too. He thought he was fulfilling my parents' wishes, he thought he was saving me, saving our son. He truly believed he was doing the right thing, and I get that." _

_She glances over to where Killian mans the steering wheel, and her father catches the look. _

"_But Hook stopped him?" Dad asks. _

_She nods. "He knew... he knew I'd need to try. To get back to you. Even if I died trying, I couldn't just let you go." _

_Mom smiles through teary eyes. "And that's why I didn't ask him." _

_Her eyes flash to her mother's face. _

"_He loves you, Em. It's pretty obvious he'd do anything for you, even if it destroyed him. I knew he'd never let your father and I go, because he'd never do that to you, not even to save you." _

_She takes a deep breath. "I think... I think they both might love me, Mom. Neal... he chose me. He chose me, when he tried to take Henry and I and run. He chose me. But Killian... he chose what he knew I'd want. He always chooses what he knows I would want. He tried to get Henry out of there, when we couldn't wake you up Mom. Neal came to try to comfort me, but Killian turned away from me to help my son. Even if it's not what's best for me, he's _always_ doing what I would have wanted. And that's the difference." _

"_So it's him, then?" Dad asks. _

_She nods. "Yeah, Daddy. I think it is. You gonna be okay with that?" _

"_I guess I have to be," Dad admits, though it seems as though it pains him slightly. "If it's what you want, I'll accept it. I just want you to be happy, Em." _

_She grins back at him, and for a short moment, they're all quiet together, before Dad speaks up once more. _

"_Can I at least threaten him within an inch of his life?" he begs. _

_Oh, it feels good to laugh. _

"_I wouldn't expect anything less," she confirms. _

_He nods over to the ship's wheel. "Who goes to talk to him first, you or me?" _

_She cuddles in closer to her mother. "Neither of us, for now. I'm good right where I am." _

* * *

"You're going to be even more connected than you were before," Emma says, suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Snow asks.

Emma clears her throat. He suspects she'll never be comfortable talking about it, and he completely understands. So if there's something Emma feels the need to tell them about it, it's got to be important.

"I think... when you came back, the link between your souls would have reconnected, as you found each other again. I don't know... anything really about how a soul fusion or soul bonds work, you'll have to ask Gold about that. I just... I just know that when I brought you back, I did it with your heart. I connected yours and Daddy's hearts together, in order to make yours beat again. And now, lying so close with you guys... I think I can hear it. Your heartbeats have matched up. You're not just connected by your souls anymore, you're connected by your hearts. And I think... someday... a long, long time from now... there will be no losing each other between worlds this time. Your hearts will stop at the same time. You'll go on together."

He swallows. He quite likes that, actually, the idea of never, ever living without his wife, but there's a flaw to this explanation...

"But Em, your heart was connected to ours too," he points out. "The magic came from _your_ heart."

She shakes her head. "But I wasn't directly tied to either one of you. Your hearts were directly tied, while my link was between you two. Just like a family tree. I came from your connection."

"So how does this all work then?" he asks.

"I have no idea," Emma admits. "We'll have to figure it out as we go. But if you and Mom could feel each other's pain before... that's going to be amplified, hugely now."

Something occurring to him, he stretches out and upwards grabbing a paper at random off the table they all lean up against. Pulling it down, he deliberately slices the page across his right hand, producing a - okay, ouch, bigger than need be - paper cut.

Snow's reaction is immediate. "Ow!" she cries out, glancing at her own hand, where an exact replica of his same cut has appeared, outlined for only a second in the shimmery purpleness of magic.

"Um," Emma says, staring at it. "Holy crap."

"I uh..." he attempts. "I'm sorry, my love. Had a hunch but... didn't think it would work like that. I just thought maybe you'd feel a phantom of the pain, like -"

"Ah!" Emma cries out, looking down at her own hand where... theres nothing at all.

They stare at each other.

"Well, like that," he finishes, lamely.

"It's okay," Emma murmurs, "the sting is gone. It was just a second of it, an impression. Ghost pain, I guess. So I am connected to you guys now, forever, just not nearly as directly. I only get a sense, an echo of it, but I don't get the actual injury. My heart isn't so directly linked to yours."

"But then... when we die," Snow starts, to his and Emma's flinch. "You'll feel it?"

Emma shakes her head, fierce determination flashing in her eyes, and she looks so very much like Snow in that moment that he loses his breath over it. "You and Daddy are going to live a long, long life," she announces, "and you'll... you'll go just simply of old age, in your sleep, in each other's arms, a long time from now. Like, when you're 110 or something. And I won't feel a thing. There will be no pain, not that kind, anyway. You'll just fade away, so easily that I won't feel it at all. Because I said so."

Snow laughs. "And that's your call?"

"Yup," Emma proclaims. "I'm crazy powerful, so I can decide these things. No more craziness. No more crap. No more danger. Just our family, and a good life together. In Storybrooke, for now."

"For now?" he asks.

His daughter glances over at him, and the absolute adoration on her face causes him to lose his breath again.

"Mom asked me awhile ago if I would go with you if you guys went back to the Enchanted Forest. I never answered then, but I am now. The Enchanted Forest is your home. And if it's what you want, of course I am coming with you. We'll rebuild. Hell, the crazy ass magic I've got, I'll whip us up the most fabulous castle anyone's ever seen in approximately thirty seconds."

Yes, oh yes, it feels good to laugh.

He is alive.

He has his wife, and his daughter, and the real little family they're making together in this, their second chance.

He doesn't know where they'll be. He doesn't know what adventures will come.

But he's finally found his happy ending.

"I love you," he murmurs. "Both of you."

"I always will."

* * *

_Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise_

_I don't have a choice, but I still choose you _

* * *

**_Author's Note: Thanks, as always, for reading. _**


	4. Emma's Epilogue

**_Author's Note: This was written as a Oncers Spread Love present for kiliansemma on tumblr. While it was meant as a fluffy Captain Swan oneshot for her, I also wrote it thinking of it as Emma's epilogue of I still choose you. It is only fair that I share it with all of you, who've been with me for this story all along. _**

* * *

_They make it home. They all do. It's a miracle - for some of them more than others - and she's determined to not take it for granted._

_Regina makes the offer that Henry should stay with 'the Charming little family' (her words) in their apartment for as long as they need, figuring that the four of them need time to be together. It's a kindness she never would have expected from the older woman, but there's no question that Regina seems different now. Neverland changed her too. She asks only that Henry spend a whole weekend with her just as soon as they feel ready for that. Fair, reasonable. They agree that they'll go from there when it comes to figuring out their son's living situation. She figures they'll probably end up with a rotating two week schedule, with time for him with Neal factored in. _

_After all this time, they've finally accepted it. Henry is a child with two mothers, both of whom he adores, and it's time to actually deal with that. _

_They're home. _

_And nothing horrible happens. _

_After two days, her father actually puts his sword away in the closet. Henry actually goes to school. Everyone starts trying to put some semblance of a normal life back together. _

_And still, nothing horrible happens. _

_Their time in Neverland has left scars on all of them, of course. She's not entirely sure that her father has let her mother out of his arms yet. Certainly, he he's barely let her out of his sight. _

_And that included when Snow went to go take a shower, which she is determinately blocking out of her mind, because ew, she's still their kid. _

_She can't blame Dad for any of it though. Not after what almost happened. (She has forcefully decided to think about Neverland only in terms of what _almost_ happened, and not - never - in terms of what _did _happen). The first night they made it back to Storybrooke, she hadn't wanted to take her eyes off her mother either. _

_They'd all slept in the living room that night. It hadn't been the most sound of sleeps, and they'd all woken up with aches and pains after sleeping on furniture that wasn't meant to be slept on, but it was okay. It was okay, because when her eyes opened that morning, her mother safe and well and working away in the tiny kitchen was the first thing she saw. _

_Mom had woken up first and made breakfast for them all, French toast - a rather unusual special treat - with more cinnamon than any other family in the world could stand, but that theirs was delighted by. _

_They'd all eaten together that morning, sitting together at the table. Mom had been more on Dad's chair than her own, Henry had teased them about it, and she'd stared at them openly, memorizing the picture they made. _

_They understood, and said nothing. _

_She will never be able to get the image of her broken father holding her lifeless mother completely out of her mind, but she can fight it now with images of them together and happy and more in love than anyone else has ever been. _

_(She has the magic to prove it). _

* * *

_After three days of nothing terrible happening, they've all settled back into a reasonably normal life. They're all able to leave each other's sight, Dad even managing to leave the apartment to grab some groceries, though he does make it back in seeming world record time. (If only grocery shopping were an Olympic sport). Henry asks about spending time with Regina, so she drops her son off at the other woman's mansion with an easy smile and a wish for them to have fun during their long weekend together. _

_And then, with determination, she marches her way down to the harbour, and invites herself on board a certain ship. _

_She needs to talk to him, badly, and it's about damn time they have this conversation, so she pools together all the bravery she has, and bangs on the door to the captain's quarters. _

_For awhile there is no answer, and she wonders if he's even there, if he'd have left the ship, and she's ready to make herself comfortable on decks to wait for him, when the door flies open. _

_And she stares at him. _

_The leather coat she'd gotten so used to, as if it was an extension of his body, is gone, replaced by a blue button-down shirt. He wears dark jeans too, that at first glance appear to be rather spectacularly well fitted. His face is washed clean, no eyeliner to be seen. _

_She had a whole speech planned. _

_But the only thing that comes out of her mouth is "nlurghhhhh." _

_"Emma?" he asks, a slow, sweet smile spreading across his face, and no, not okay, she's dealing with enough right now, she did _not_ give him permission for the grin. "How are you, sweetheart?" _

_Oh, he is just not playing fair. _

_"You… look different," she manages, quite lamely. _

_And now he's blushing, which is just great. She never would have figured him one for embarrassment or sheepishness; still kind of figuring he has no shame. But this is twice now she's made him blush. _

_Oh God, she makes him blush. And she's pretty sure he's returning the favour. _

_"I thought perhaps it was time for me to acquire some clothing that stood out a little less," he admits. "Less Captain Hook. More Killian Jones." _

_She smiles at him. "So you're Killian now?" _

_"You call me Killian," he says quietly. "That's good enough for me." _

Oh.

_He'd always had charm to him, unquestionably, but she had severely underestimated his ability for sweetness. _

_"Then you're staying?" she demands, needing to hear it. _

_"Aye," he confirms. "I quite like the scenery of your little town." _

_She manages to grin at him. _

_"It is pretty here," she agrees. _

* * *

_"Can I get you a drink?" he asks. "I have… some sort of ale, I think?" _

_She laughs. "What happened to the rum?" _

_He winces, just slightly. "Trying to kick the habit, love." _

_What happened, and what did they do to her pirate?_

_Wait… her pirate? _

_"Got any water to spare?" she asks, shaken, but she likes to think she hides it well. Maybe not, though, given the way he looks at her. _

_"Water I can do," he agrees, opening a cupboard and tossing her a water bottle. _

_She nods a thank you, feeling inexplicably shy, and wanders back out on deck and sits down, waiting for him to follow her. _

_He does, eventually, sitting down next to her with a water bottle in his hand too, surprising her. She'd expected the beer._

_"Well love," he starts, "we could stare out at your town's fine scenery all day if you like, and I shall not complain, but something tells me you did not come here to admire the port." _

_Brick walls. She's always had brick walls, built so high up and so tight around herself, that the idea was that no one would ever get in. _

_Not unless she let them. _

_That was the idea, had always been the idea. But her son, her precious boy had shown up at her apartment door and gone unceremoniously bashing through the bricks, and Mary Margaret had wandered through the hole Henry had created before she'd been able to put up reinforcements. She'd shoved her back out upon discovering her fairy tale truth, started building the bricks back up. But Snow White and Prince Charming, they'd waited, patient and loving and _hers_ until she was ready to open a door and let Mom and Dad in. _

_And in the meantime? In the meantime, a freaking pirate had bashed his own door in at the back when she wasn't paying attention. _

_At this point, she figures, there's so much damage to the walls that it's not even worth bothering with the bricks. _

_She loves her son fiercer than she'd known it was possible to love anything, and she needs her parents now more than she ever could have imagined she could, and the pirate hanging out in the back, maybe she wants him to come sit with everyone in the front. _

_He loves her, she knows that. The scary thing is the very real possibility of loving him back. _

_"I'm glad you're staying," she murmurs. _

_Killian grins that all together unfair grin, made even more rude by the way he looks down, sheepishly pleased, for just a second before looking back up at her again. _

_"I'm delighted you're pleased, love, but you hadn't known of my plans when you came here originally, so we both know that is not why you're here. Tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" _

_She'd had a whole speech planned, she thinks vaguely, but it had gone out the window, the moment she saw him, so apparently winging it is how this is gonna go. _

_That's fine. She's been winging it her whole life. No reason at all to stop during one of its important moments. _

_"You had my back," she finally says, staring at him. "In Neverland. The whole time, but especially at the end. I need to thank you for that." _

_"Of course," he replies, looking just slightly disappointed for reasons she was unsure of. "I promised you I would." _

_She sighs. She's got to do a better job of explaining this. _

_"Everyone did," she confirms. "Everyone came on this ship with the intention of helping me save Henry. And I'm grateful for that, I really am, I'm grateful to everyone, but it's… bigger than that with you. Everyone tried to be there for me. But you, you were the one, the only one, who kept acting based on what I'd want, rather than what was 'best for me'. With Neal, with Henry, you kept doing what I'd have done, what I'd want, even… even if it hurt you to do it. You had my back more than you had your own, and I'm never gonna be able to tell you how much that meant to me." _

_He looks slightly stunned, but gathers himself well, looking out at the water, before glancing back at her, a fierceness she saw briefly in him in Neverland during the battle flickering back in his eyes, and she swallows against the feeling of her heart in her throat. _

_He'd looked at her like that when he was gaining strength from her. _

_He'd looked at her like that, and in that moment she'd realized he loved her. _

_"I'd be flip and say 'your wish is my command', but this matters too much for that," he admits suddenly, forcing out the words in a rush as if they're hurting him to keep inside. "Surely at this point you must know that I could only ever want what would make you happy, and failing that, what would bring you peace. I only want whatever it is that you want, and if it is in my power - even if it isn't - I would always try to move heaven and earth to give it to you." _

_She stares up at him, gathers all the courage she has in her, and whispers, "And what if what I want is you?" _

_There's a terror in his eyes now, fear and hope and longing so strong it scares her too. _

_"Is it?" he asks with a whisper. _

_"Yeah," she murmurs. "It kinda is."_

_She can feel herself shaking, but she makes herself say it anyway. "You, Killian. What I want is you." _

_He swallows. Nods once, twice, slowly, so slowly, as if he's thinking about it. And then he leans towards her, touches his lips to hers, a whisper of a kiss, the sweetest thing she's ever felt. _

_He pulls away, barely, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "That should have been our first kiss," he whispers. _

_She can't breathe. _

_She manages to say what she's thinking anyway. _

_"And what about our second?" __  
_

* * *

_After, he holds her. _

_They're wrapped together tight by necessity and want both, and she teases him about having the world's tiniest bed in his precious captain's quarters, and how it messes with his mystique, and he gets her to shut up by kissing her, which works very nicely for her. _

_Eventually, they make it back above decks, still curled together on the deck. She commandeers that blue shirt she'd admired on him earlier and enjoyed pulling off him even more, and cheerfully informs him that he's never getting it back, it's hers now, enjoy being back to leather. _

_He laughs at her with a joy that quickens her heart. _

_It's nice here, all evening sea breeze and bright colours of a setting sun, and she thinks she could quite happily spend many nights right here, not moving from this spot, curled up in his lap, passing a single beer back and forth. _

_He kisses her shoulder, through the shirt that he'd gotten a solid two hours of wearing out of before she'd claimed it as her own. _

_"Are your parents okay with this?" he asks softly. _

_"Oh, Daddy will be coming by any day now to threaten to carve you to death with your own hook," she announces with a cheer that probably scares him even more than the words themselves. _

_He groans. "He tell you this much?" _

_"Yeah," she smirks. "Well, I may have added the fine points. He just wants to threaten you within an inch of your life. Not sure if he'll provide details." _

_He shakes his head. "Wonderful. I've fallen for Prince Charming's kid, and she goes and turns out to be very much her father's daughter." _

_She has to laugh, delighted by him as she has - secretly - been for essentially the entire time she's known him. _

_"If it makes you feel better, I think once he's done with the threatening, he wouldn't be opposed to going for a beer. He respects you. Hasn't forgotten how many times he owes you his life. And more than that, he and my Mom both just want me happy." _

_"And they think that's going to happen with me?" _

_She nods, hearing what he's not asking - Neal. _

_"You know my mother told Neal to take me and Henry and run if things got bad?" she asks. _

_He sighs. "I figured as much, aye." _

_She smiles up at him. "She also told me she didn't ask you, because she knew you wouldn't do it to me." _

_He freezes. "What?" _

_"My parents knew you wouldn't leave them to die. Knew you'd risk your life, let me risk mine, to try and make my way back to them. My Mom knew you'd be selfless. She knew you'd have my back. That's why she didn't ask you." _

_"You've talked this over with them," he says, softly, a note of disbelief in his voice. _

_"They love me," she confirms, taking a deep breath. "And they know I love you." _

_There is no fear in his eyes now, no longing. There is only joy, and desire, and love so intense she never wants to let it go. _

_There's still so much more they need to discuss, so much they need to figure out. _

_But for now, for tonight, these are the only words that matter. _

_"As I love you," he promises. _

_There was never a choice. _

_But she still chooses him. _

* * *

**_Author's Note: With this, I still choose you is truly complete. _**

**_Thank you for joining me on Snow and Charming's journey, and Emma and Hook's fall. _**

**_Thanks, as always, for reading. _**


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